


Not Your Hero

by CobaltDreams



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:53:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltDreams/pseuds/CobaltDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hades has never been particularly fond of the Olympians and tries to avoid them as much as possible. Unfortunately, they don't care about what he wants; in fact, several Olympians seem determined to irritate him as much as possible. He may or may not start to enjoy it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work can also be found on FanFiction.net.

It was a dark day. Stormy. Too stormy.

He scowled upwards, hating the sight of the black clouds swirling in exotic patterns across the sky.

Those clouds, bringing to Greece the first storm of the season, stood for everything he despised. They stood for power. They stood for absolute authority and unerring judgment. They were the symbol of his youngest brother, Zeus, the king of the heavens. They were the mark of everything that Zeus had stolen from him so long ago.

With a deep sigh, Lord Hades tore his eyes away from the angry sky and gazed straight ahead. Mount Olympus was visible far in the distance, an imposing sight to the thousands of people who believed that twelve powerful gods resided there.

To Hades, it was not imposing. In fact, it was nothing short of irritating. _He_ should be living there. _He_ should be ruling over the gods and people. Instead, he was shunned away in the Underworld with only monsters and the souls of the dead for company.

He was, of course, allowed to surface and spend time at his brother's grand palace in Heaven. It was bitterness that kept him away from his family. Years had passed since the Titans had been conquered, and still Hades could not let go of the grudge that he had held for so long. After everything he had done for the Olympians in the ten-year-war, this is what he got: rule of the Underworld. And for what reason? He was the oldest brother, older than Poseidon and Zeus. He had fought ferociously in the war, perhaps more so than any of his siblings. He deserved a better position than this.

Hades was torn out of his darks thoughts by the sound of beating wings. Glancing to the side, he came face-to-face with one of the most recent products of Zeus's many affairs. His name was Hermes, and because he was the messenger of both Olympus and the Underworld, Hades saw more of him than the rest of his family put together—which, Hades, thought, was unfortunate. As far as he was concerned, Hermes was nothing more than an annoying brat with a sharp mind that sometimes proved to be useful.

"Hades," Hermes greeted him in a tone that was far too cheerful. "I didn't expect to find you here."

" _Lord_ Hades," the older god corrected him through gritted teeth. "You will refer to me as _Lord_. I may be cooped away in that wretched realm, but I am still a king, and you will not forget it."

To his irritation, Hermes merely winked at him. _Winked._ "As you wish, _my Lord."_

There was a pause, during why Hades silently fumed about the brat's insolence, and Hermes smirked at him as though he knew _exactly_ what the other was thinking.

Then Hermes spoke up again. "I have a message for you. Father Zeus would like me to tell you that he is holding a gathering for the family at the palace in seven days. He requests your presence there."

Hades had always thought that the messenger had an annoying voice, but the buoyant, bubbly tone he used to deliver this message was almost too much to take.

"And what, _exactly,_ is this gathering for?" Hades ground out.

Hermes shot him a sly grin. "He didn't say. Maybe he wants an excuse to get you out of that gloomy place you call a home."

"And whose fault is it that I have to call it my home?" Hades snapped. "You can tell him that I'm not coming. I have no desire to spend any longer than necessary with my brother and his little brats."

Hermes showed no reaction to the slight. "You could at least come see Poseidon and your sisters."

Hades let out a derisive snort. "What makes you think I want to see any of them?"

Hermes shrugged, smiling. "I never said that I thought you want to. Regardless, you're _going_ to. Father said that you don't have a choice."

Hades had a strong urge to wipe the smile off the imp's face, and he gnashed his teeth together harder than ever. _"Fine,"_ he hissed.

The lord of the dead only got a fleeting glimpse of the triumphant expression on Hermes' face before he disappeared into thin air.

 

Seven days was not long at all. Especially not to a god who was thousands of years old.

The evening of the so-called _gathering_ found Hades standing in front of a large sheet of highly-polished silver, glowering at his own reflection. His chiton was dark blue, almost black. He ran his fingers over the metal belt around his waist, a symbol of his high status. The chlamys draped over his right shoulder was violet, and his black hair tumbled freely down his back. He knew he looked regal. It wasn't an accident.

An imposing appearance commands respect.

He turned away from his reflection, tired of his own icy expression. If he had to go to this gathering, he was going to get it over with as soon as possible.

In less than a second, he had vanished from his palace in the Underworld and appeared at the gates of the palace at Olympus, the not-so-humble abode of the gods. Torches cast pools of dancing light across the marble walkways, illuminating the way to the Great Hall. Hades stalked through the gates, not paying the Horae, who were guarding the entrance, any attention.

His chiton and chlamys billowed around him, for it was an unusually breezy night in Olympus, where the weather was usually perfect and windless. Nothing but the best for Zeus and his precious family.

His scowl deepened.

Servants were bustling about, rushing to and from the kitchen, and carrying trays laden with food and drink. Rich laughter could be heard, echoing through the dark night. Hades wondered how many people had been invited to this "family" gathering. While Hades considered family to be only his immediate relatives, he wouldn't put it past Zeus to include every aunt, uncle, niece, nephew, and cousin of the Olympians.

Indeed, when he finally slipped through the doors leading to the Great Hall, he found himself at the edge of a massive crowd. It seemed that his brother had not just invited the extended family, but everyone with any remote connection to the Olympian gods.

"Hades!" a jovial voice exclaimed not a minute after he had walked in.

The disgruntled god's eyes landed on Hermes, who was shoving someone that Hades did not recognize out of the way in an attempt to reach his uncle.

"How many times do I have to tell you to address me as _Lord?_ " Hades hissed when the messenger finally succeeded in breaking free from the crowd.

"At least once more," Hermes said with a grin that seemed impossibly big. It was amazing how the young god managed to show every single one of his teeth with just one smile.

Hades decided to let it drop for now. He had other things to focus on at the moment. "This doesn't look like a 'family gathering'," he said darkly, glaring at anyone who dared to look in his direction.

"Oh, they're all related to us somehow," Hermes said as he beamed at a nymph who had just waved at him.

"If I've never met someone before, they do not count as my family," Hades said, narrowing his dark eyes at the same nymph, "no matter how closely we are related."

Hermes turned his clever eyes back to Hades, brushing his black hair off his forehead. "I'm inclined to agree with you," he admitted, and Hades saw that he looked faintly amused. "It was _supposed_ to be a small gathering – but then Dionysus got involved, and you know how he is."

The king's lip curled. Dionysus was the youngest Olympian, the last to join the pantheon. He was also arguably the most irritating of all. After he had met Hermes for the first time, Hades had been sure that he would never come across a more annoying person. But then Dionysus had come along, and Hades had been proven wrong.

Perhaps the youngest Olympian would be less infuriating if he wasn't constantly under the influence of wine. No one had ever had the chance to find out.

Hermes opened his mouth to continue speaking, but didn't get the chance because at that exact moment a voice boomed "Hades!"

Hades groaned inwardly and turned to face his youngest brother.

Hades and Zeus looked nothing alike. Zeus's hair was so blond that it almost looked white, and his eyes were blue beneath his thick lashes—the exact opposite of his brother's, whose were dark brown. Their only similarities were the high cheekbones that seemed to run in their family and their talent for looking majestic and imposing.

"Zeus," Hades muttered his greeting.

Zeus was not put off by his older brother's less-than-amiable attitude. "I take it you got my message," he said brightly, patting Hades on the shoulder.

"Obviously."

"I thought it would be good for the family to get together," Zeus went on, looking around the room with a merry expression.

Hades gave him a disgusted look. It was no secret where Hermes had inherited his good cheer. "It will be interesting to see if the evening ends in maiming and killing, as it usually does after these 'family get-togethers' that you so enjoy."

Zeus's deep laughter rumbled through the room. "I've always loved your sense of humor, brother," he chortled.

Hermes, who was watching the exchange between his father and uncle, smirked.

"So how is life in Erebus treating you?" Zeus then asked as he accepted a goblet of nectar from a servant who had appeared at his elbow.

"It's as wonderfully gloomy as ever," Hades said dryly, wishing that he could be anywhere but here.

"Excellent," Zeus said happily, and Hades scowled as Hermes stifled his laughter. "You're looking well, you know."

Hades raised a dark eyebrow, knowing that his brother couldn't be serious. His unhealthily pale complexion didn't really qualify as "looking well", but it was the unavoidable result of rarely venturing out of his palace. He knew that he must look more ghostly than usual standing next to Hermes, whose olive-colored skin had the healthy glow of the Mediterranean people, and Zeus, who was lightly tanned. "Thank you," he said anyway, not meaning it.

Zeus beamed at him. "Well, I must be off. More people to greet, you know." And with that, he turned on his heel and strode away. Hades shot a disdainful expression at his back before turning back to Hermes.

"Don't you have anyone else to annoy?" he snapped at the brat.

"Sure, but none of them are as fun as you," Hermes said matter-of-factly.

Before Hades could threaten to rip his tongue out if he didn't shove off, two more people that he had no desire to see stepped out of the crowd.

"There you are," one of them said to Hermes, sounding exasperated. "I've been looking everywhere for you." His name was Apollo, and he was the most favored of Zeus's many sons. Whether it was for his many talents, his brilliance, or his good looks, Hades wasn't sure. Nor did he care.

"Well, congratulations! You found me!" Hermes said jokingly.

Apollo scowled at him. Hades knew that he found the messenger as annoying as he himself did. For that reason, Hades had a tiny amount of respect for him. Still, he found Apollo's tendencies to be a huge overachiever and know-it-all hard to handle-not to mention the fact that Apollo was a healer who went out of his way to save people from early deaths. His chivalrous acts kept a large number of people from becoming subjects in the realm of the dead, and Hades didn't appreciate it.

"Maybe we should play hide-and-seek," the second person said from over Apollo's shoulder. He was wearing a stupid grin. "Then we could find you over and over and over again!"

"What a good idea, Dionysus," Hades said sarcastically. "I have a better idea, though. Why don't _you_ go hide, and we'll come find you after a thousand years?"

"That doesn't sound like fun," Dionysus argued, and Hades and Apollo both shot him exasperated expressions that looked strikingly similar.

Hermes snickered before finally asking, "What did you need me for, Apollo?"

"I've been meaning to ask if you ever delivered my message to Melpomene. I invited her, but I haven't seen her all night."

Hermes frowned slightly and scratched his head. "Ummm…yeah, I did, come to think of it. Quite a while ago, actually."

Apollo gave a small sigh. "She probably didn't feel like coming."

Hermes wrinkled his nose. "I don't know why you like her so much, anyway. She's _weird._ "

"She is not _weird,_ " Apollo snapped.

Hades glanced from Apollo's annoyed face to Hermes' stubborn expression and rolled his eyes. "This sounds like a conversation that I will _never_ be interested in," he muttered before walking away.

To his annoyance, Dionysus followed him, teetering slightly. When Hades whirled around to glare at him, the young god merely smiled, wrapping his purple cloak more tightly around his body.

Hades had only met Dionysus a couple of time, and both meetings had been brief. Now he saw that the youngest Olympian was strikingly beautiful, perhaps more so than Apollo and his sister, Aphrodite. If Hades had merely glanced at him, he might have thought him a girl. His dark hair, chestnut brown, fell to his shoulders in waves and hung against his pale cheeks. A lopsided crown of ivy rested on his head, and his eyes swirled with different shades of purple. His face had a slightly dazed expression on it, and as he looked back at Hades, he appeared slightly confused.

"Why are you following me?" Hades asked curtly.

Dionysus tilted his head, and the ivy crown slipped off and fell to the floor. He didn't bother to pick it up. "You look unhappy," he said simply.

"Maybe that's because you're _following_ me," Hades snarled. "Leave me alone. I don't want to talk to you."

Dionysus shook his head but the action seemed to throw him off balance—he began to stumble. Out of reflex, Hades reached out a hand and grabbed him by the arm to steady him. "You idiot," he hissed, fully aware that the crowd around them was now looking on with amusement. "You should go to bed and _stay there!"_

To his horror, Dionysus merely chuckled and leaned against the older god's side. "I don't want to go to bed. I'm having fun! You should have fun too."

Hades resisted the urge to shove him away in disgust. Dionysus would only fall over if he were to do so, which would attract more attention.

"I don't need to have _fun,"_ he said instead, pronouncing the last word like it left a foul taste in his mouth. "What I need to do is get away from _you_ and this ridiculous party."

With that said, he swiftly stepped away from Dionysus, leaving the young god teetering in the middle of the crowd, looking very much like a lost puppy.

_I hate my family_ was his last sour thought before he left Olympus in favor of his dark and silent palace in the Underworld.


	2. Chapter 2

Hades leaned over a fresh sheet of papyrus with his eyebrows furrowed; he despised having to write letters, but it was better than going to see his brother, who was the addressee, in person.

He tapped his reed pen against the desk before sighing and dipping it into a jar of ink.

The tip had barely touched the sheet when someone appeared in the room. "What is it, Charon?" Hades growled without raising his head.

"My Lord," Charon began, and Hades was surprised to hear that there was a trace of nervousness in his voice. The boatman usually sounded as lifeless as the people he ferried to the Underworld.

"Yes?" Hades pressed. His pen was moving swiftly across the papyrus.

"My Lord," Charon repeated, "there is someone here to see you."

"Is it the brat?" Hades asked. Charon was well-familiar with the king's nickname of choice for Hermes.

Charon hesitated. "No, Lord. This visitor is—well, a living mortal."

The reed pen fell with a clatter. Hade looked up at the hooded figure before him, who finally had his full attention. "Show me," he demanded.

Charon turned on his heel and silently led the way. Hades followed, hot on his heel. The walk ended at the palace gates, and it was there that Hades laid eyes on the mortal stranger.

For a long moment, there was silence as the visitor stared at Hades, and Hades stared back with narrowed eyes. He was larger than any man Hades had ever seen—his bulging muscles were almost too big for his short chiton, and he stood at a towering height. A massive club was gripped in his hand, and Hades saw that his knuckles were white, as though he was prepared to use it. Hades' lip curled at the thought. Clearly, this mortal was a fool.

"I don't believe we have met," Hades finally said in a quiet voice.

The man jumped at the unexpected sound, but quickly recovered. "We haven't," he grunted.

A pause lingered in the air as Hades continued to eye the stranger. The king's dark eyes were cold. "There is a reason we haven't met," he continued softly. "If you are not dead, you have no business here."

"My business is wherever I want it to be," the human snarled, flexing his muscles in what Hades assumed was supposed to be an intimidating move. Far from being frightened, the lord of the dead merely raised a dark eyebrow. "Do not be mistaken, mortal," he said, and his lips curved into a slight smirk. "If you so desire to be present here, I shall be more than happy to accommodate you. It always delights me to increase my number of subjects—particularly when they arrive so willingly."

Hades took great pleasure in the small spark of fear in the man's eyes. In his many years of existence, he had come to learn that death was something that frightened almost everyone—no matter how vehemently they denied it.

The mortal, though, did an admirable job of concealing his fear. "You can't kill me!" he said in a forceful voice that seemed to grow louder with every syllable. "You won't kill anyone without a reason!"

It was true that despite his reputation, Hades was among the most just of the gods. He didn't approve of taking action against anyone without good reason. The mortal, however, had forgotten something crucial.

With a small sneer, Hades stepped closer. "Indeed I won't. But, as you have so foolishly forgotten, I _do_ have a reason to kill you."

The man held his ground as Hades moved closer still. "Don't presume to know my own laws better than I do." The king's voice was almost a hiss now. "No living mortal is allowed to enter the realm of the dead. As I said before: _you have no business here!"_

_"Yes I do,"_ he snarled back. "If you would shut your mouth and give me a chance to _talk—!"_

Hades' eyes flashed; he was fully prepared to break this man's neck with his bare hands. He opened his mouth to say just that, but the words died on his lips when Hermes materialized directly behind the mortal.

Hades had known the herald for several hundred years, but in all that time, he had never seen the younger god looking so utterly _furious_. Hades quirked a questioning eyebrow at Hermes, but the messenger paid him no attention. "Are you a complete _idiot?!"_ he shouted instead, aiming the question at the back of the mortal's head.

The startled human spun around, meeting the newly arrived god's lived stare. Hermes didn't give him the chance to speak. "Do I have to do _everything_ by myself?! Can't I take my eyes off of you for _one second_ without you stumbling into a life-threatening situation? You are _useless!"_ he bellowed in a voice that left the king's ears ringing. "I go to deliver _one_ message and when I come back, I find out that you decided to _waltz into the Underworld!_ What were you _thinking?! Do you even have a brain?!"_ The messenger's hand shot up, and Hades had to fight to keep his face blank as Hermes rapped his knuckles against the man's forehead. "Did you _honestly_ think it was a good idea to march up to my uncle's palace, Herakles?" he snarled as the human—Herakles?—winced in pain and rubbed his head. "How did you even get in here? Nevermind, I don't want to know. _Fool."_

"Are you quite done?" Hades drawled when Hermes stopped to catch his breath. The messenger shot him a dirty look. Hades chose to ignore it. "What is the meaning of all this? Who is this man?"

Hermes sighed and rubbed his temples. "He's my brother."

"Hardly a surprise," Hades said dryly. "I was hoping for more of an explanation. It isn't every day that half-witted oafs wander into my kingdom, and I can't say that I'm fond of the experience."

Another sigh. "He's doing penance for a crime. King Eurystheus is having him attempt a variety of tasks…if he completes them all successfully, the crime will be forgiven and he will get a reward."

"And you've been helping him?" Hades' face was set in an expression of disapproval.

"He can't be allowed to die," Hermes snapped. "He's too important. Father told me to keep an eye on him."

Hades gave Hermes a cold look that clearly said "Watch your tone with me" before letting his lips twist into a sneer. "And of what use could this buffoon possibly be to my dear brother?"

"Long story," Hermes muttered before returning his glare to Herakles. "I'm assuming you at least had _some_ sort of reason to come traipsing in here like a moron?"

"Of course I did," Herakles retorted. He actually had the nerve to look miffed. "I'm supposed to capture that big dog thing of his." He pointed his club at Hades.

For a split second, Hermes and Hades wore identical expressions of shock. Then Hades began to snort with laughter and, if it was possible, Hermes looked more surprised than before. "Laughter" and "Hades" didn't exactly go hand in hand.

"Cerberus? You're supposed to capture _Cerberus?"_

Herakles now looked positively insulted, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

After a few last chuckles, Hades eyed him with amusement. "You know what, mortal? I'm feeling generous today. If you are able to overpower him _without_ using any of your brutish weapons, you may have Cerberus."

The expression Herakles took on after Hades finished speaking was nothing short of mutinous, but after a long moment of silence, he finally let out a huff of irritation. "Fine," he growled, dropping his club to the ground. His greaves, breastplate, shield, quiver and bow, spear, and helm soon followed. Hades raised his eyebrows—the mortal looked much less bulky without all of the items he'd had on his person.

"Where do I find the beast?" Herakles shot at Hades.

With a smirk, Hades pointed to a trail that led to the west side of the Underworld. Without further ado, the hero set off.

"Beware, human," Hades called after him. "Cerberus has a taste for live meat."

Herakles didn't bother to turn around, and Hermes gave his uncle a look of disgust before vanishing with a beat of his wings.

Chuckling to himself once again, Hades turned and headed back inside.


	3. Chapter 3

_"We are three brothers born by Rhea to Kronos: Zeus, and Poseidon, and the third is Hades lord of the dead men. All was divided among us three ways, each given his domain. Poseidon when the lots were shaken drew the grey sea to live in forever; Hades drew the lot of the mists and the darkness, and Zeus was allotted the wide sky, in the cloud and the bright air. But earth and high Olympus are common to all three." -Homer,_ The Iliad

It had been a quiet day. Hades had not seen anyone since he had risen from his bed, and he was reveling in the peace. No wandering souls, no obtuse mortals, not even a single servant had disrupted him. Hades was a sober god who usually preferred his own company to that of others, and the events of the past month had made him long for his old lifestyle—before his brother had felt the need to throw parties and send his mortal sons on ridiculous adventures.

Perhaps his large number of subjects, both mortal and immortal, had sensed his desire to be alone.

He should have known that it was all too good to be true.

Late in the afternoon, he felt a small pull in the back of his mind that alerted him to the presence of someone in his palace. It wasn't long before he discovered who had invaded his privacy.

Zeus came strolling into the room, whistling a tune that sounded suspiciously like one of his own hymns under his breath. Hades looked up from where he had been polishing his collection of rubies with narrowed eyes.

It would have been polite to allow Zeus, the king of all gods and men, to speak first, but politeness wasn't a quality that Hades was known for possessing. "What, brother?" he snapped as soon as Zeus had stopped whistling. "Has this become a new hobby—for every man, woman, and child, god and mortal, to stroll into the Underworld whenever it strikes their fancy? I do have laws, as you perfectly well know."

Much to Hades' dismay, Zeus was not at all fazed by the short rant. He waved a dismissive hand. "Ah, but brother," he smiled, "what fun would it be if we could not all visit each other? You and Poseidon can visit me, just as you and I can visit him…"

"We had a deal!" Hades said sharply. "The heavens and the earth above Styx were to be common to all three of us. And since _when_ can we visit Poseidon? Have you suddenly developed the ability to breathe underwater? Congratulations, brother." The last words were practically dripping with sarcasm, but still, Zeus only looked vaguely amused. "And are you planning to move in here with me?" Hades went on. His dark eyes were glittering angrily. "You know I allow all to enter, but none to leave."

"And you and I both know that you make exceptions," Zeus said smoothly.

Hades snorted. "If you are referring to that foolish son of yours—"

"Herakles," Zeus supplied.

Hades ignored him. "I made a deal with him. I keep my word. Besides…I wouldn't want that oaf wandering around my kingdom. Having him here for a half hour was bad enough." His face twisted into a distasteful expression.

"You let Hermes come and go."

"He works for me," Hades dismissed before shooting his younger brother a suspicious look. "What are you doing here, anyway? Surely this isn't a social call."

"Oh, right," Zeus said. He was now walking around the room, looking at the various collections of stones that Hades had procured over the years. "I brought back that pet of yours."

"Cerberus?" Hades smirked. "Did the mortal not want to keep him?"

Zeus pushed his white-blond hair out of his face and smirked back. "The beast has no use in the world of the living—and King Eurystheus was absolutely _terrified_ of him. He demanded that Herakles bring him back. I offered to act in his stead."

"Well, at least you didn't come here for no reason at all," Hades muttered, absently tossing a ruby from hand to hand.

"Now, really, Hades," Zeus chastised, turning away from a collection of emeralds to face the older king. "Is it so wrong of me to visit my favorite brother?"

Hades snorted and rolled his eyes. "Don't try to use your charms on me, Zeus. 'Favorite brother'? _Really?_ Don't you spend scads of time underwater with dear Poseidon? Surely _he_ is your favorite."

Zeus chuckled. "Brother, I was jesting before. Even if I was able to visit Poseidon's palace, I wouldn't."

Hades silently agreed with him. Arrogant, violent Poseidon was not well liked by anyone in the family, with the possible exception of Apollo.

Zeus sat down on the table, and for once, his cheery, light-hearted expression was replaced by one of thoughtfulness. His fair eyebrows drew together, and his eyes were fixed on the floor. "Hades..." he ventured after a moment of silence.

Hades remained silent, inviting him to go on.

"There was a reason I wanted Herakles to remain safe."

"I had deduced that much," Hades said dryly.

Zeus looked up at him, and blue eyes met brown. "He is the key to conquering our ancestors once and for all," the blond said quietly.

Hades shifted in his seat, leaning forward slightly. "What do you mean?"

"We have defeated the Titans," Zeus said, keeping his voice low, "but there are still many creatures roaming our lands—creatures that remain loyal to the gods of old."

"The Gigantes," Hades murmured, for they were the greatest threat to the Olympians. They were a fierce, divine tribe of giants, loyal to the Titans and unable to be killed by any god.

"Indeed," Zeus said, looking away from Hades and gazing at the far wall. "Apollo has foretold that it is only a matter of time before they attack Olympus."

Hades leaned back and crossed his arms. "Did he also foretell that Herakles will be of great importance to the gods?" he asked with a faint trace of amusement. "Or did you figure this out all on your own?"

"Actually, Apollo only prophesied that Herakles will become immortal after he dies," Zeus retorted. He looked slightly incensed. "I'll have you know that I do _not_ need my son to work out every problem for me."

Hades didn't comment, but he knew it was true. His youngest brother, though obnoxiously cheerful and inclined to naïve and foolish ways, was by far one of the wisest of the immortals, and fearfully powerful.

"There is to be another war, then?" Hades finally said, jerking Zeus out of a stupor. The younger god nodded, and Hades found himself remembering the first war, the one that had lasted for ten years. He remembered fighting fiercely alongside his brothers as they struggled to overcome their Titan predecessors.

"I will not fight in this one," Hades said quietly.

Zeus surprised him by responding, "I didn't expect you to, brother. You are needed down here more than you are up there."

Hades gave him a curt nod, and Zeus murmured a faint farewell before disappearing with a flash of bright light.

 

Apollo's prediction had not been far off; the war against Heaven arrived one day with a loud _crash_ that sent Hades leaping out of bed. His palace was shaking violently, the tremors coming from overhead. It was not an earthquake—he would have been forewarned by Poseidon. It only took him a second to remember what Zeus had mentioned about Apollo's prophecy.

The giants must have decided to act.

Hades hurried out of his palace as quickly as he could without stumbling and saw several people racing down the trail that led to his gates. "What's going on?" he demanded when they reached him.

It was Thanatos, standing close to his brother Hypnos, who answered. "It is the giants, Lord Hades," he said in a voice that, to Hades, always sounded breathless. "They are walking above us."

Hades looked up at the gray sky that was nothing more than an illusion. The ground was still moving beneath their feet, but what had been violent shaking had slowed to slight tremors. "To _where_ are they walking?" he snapped, frowning upwards.

"Presumably the summit of Mount Olympus."

For a long moment, the other gods stared at their king apprehensively as he continued to glower at the sky.

They were shocked when, without warning, he growled and disappeared before their very eyes.

 

When Hades appeared in the middle of the Council Hall in the palace at Olympus, he found the place deserted. The sight of the empty room, which was usually bustling with people, unnerved him. He gazed at Zeus's unoccupied throne, black marble with the seat covered in purple fleece, before turning on his heel and rushing out of the room.

The marble walkways outside the Hall were equally deserted. Not a sound could be heard—not even the noises of the exotic animals that so many of the Olympians kept as pets. It seemed that everyone had fled.

He hissed in frustration before rushing down the nearest stairs—accessible only by the most important gods—which led from the palace to the mountain below. If the family had gone anywhere, he thought, it would be down here.

He was correct. At the bottom of the stairs, he found the twelve Olympians facing away from him. They were all heavily armed, even Hermes and Dionysus. Hades eyed the two after-mentioned gods—neither had any experience with war.

Making a quick decision, Hades called forth his helm—he was forever grateful to the Cyclopes for gifting him with the weapon that made him invisible to both mortals and immortals. He planned to stay hidden from his family unless his assistance was needed. Clearly, it was unnecessary to warn them.

The other gods began to talk, and in spite of himself, Hades listened in.

"I will tear these beasts limb from limb," Ares was snarling.

Apollo, who had never particularly cared for his older brother, rolled his eyes. "You're a fool to speak so, Ares."

"I may be a fool, but at least I'm not a snooty know-it-all," Ares growled. His hand had tightened around the spear he held—even from a distance, Hades could see that his knuckles were white.

Apollo looked unimpressed and almost bored. He flicked a strand of his blond hair over his shoulder, and as Hades looked at his dispassionate face, he realized how strongly Apollo resembled Zeus. At least he hadn't inherited his father's naivety.

Hades turned his attention to his brothers and sisters. Hera, as usual, was attempting to conceal her anger as Zeus chatted up Demeter. Although Zeus couldn't see him, Hades shot a glare at his back. Even before a war, his brother's hormones controlled him.

Hades had grudging respect for his beautiful sister. As much as Hera loathed being married to Zeus, she still attempted to set a good example for other women as the wife of the supreme ruler. Of all his sisters, Hades had always gotten along best with Hera, for she was nearly as snarky and stubborn as he was. She had done away with her usual veil and diadem, and in her slender hands she was twirling a dagger. Hades smirked—he wondered how much self-control it took for her to not thrust that dagger into her husband's heart.

Athena, Zeus's favorite daughter, was listening to Apollo and Ares argue with a thoughtful expression. In Hades' opinion, she looked more a warrior than any of her brothers. Dressed in full armor, her shield was strapped over her chest, her helmet was atop her head, and a spear was clutched in her hand. Hades wondered if she was as fierce as she looked. He had only ever spoken to her in passing.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hades saw Apollo turn around. The lord of the dead turned his attention back to the young god, who was now gazing at the staircase that Hades had recently descended with an unreadable expression on his face. It almost seemed like he was waiting on something.

Apparently Dionysus felt the same way, because he looked up from his conversation with Hermes and called out, "Apollo, what are you staring at?"

Dionysus's question caught the attention of the other gods, and soon, eleven pairs of eyes were trained on Apollo.

"I was waiting on something," Apollo said smoothly. He gazed at the staircase for a second longer before turning back to Ares and Athena.

He had no time to restart the conversation, however; just at that moment, a massive boulder came soaring up from somewhere near the base of the mountain, barely missing Dionysus's head. The youngest Olympian yelped and ducked to the ground; Hermes looked like he wanted to follow suit.

"They're here!" someone shouted, and it was all Hades could do to keep from making a sarcastic comment about stating the obvious. He had little time to lament about his need to stay silent because it had just become necessary for him to dive to the ground in order to avoid a flaming chunk of wood. It flew so close to the top of his head that he thought he smelled burning hair but he didn't bother to check; the Olympians were under attack.

Giants were vaulting onto the cliff where the family had been standing, wielding all manner of deadly weapons. Despite the danger that was now surrounding him, Hades watched with rapt attention as his brothers, sisters, nieces, and nephews sprang into action.

Hades had seen his siblings fight before, so their talent in battle was no surprise to him. As he watched his brother's children, however, he couldn't deny being impressed. Athena, in particular, was fascinating to watch. She moved so fast that she was almost a blur. Her spear had been thrust into the first giant that charged her, and then her sword had flown out of its sheath; she wielded it with fluidity and grace.

At some point, Apollo had managed to jump up to a higher cliff. He was releasing arrows in such rapid succession that the movement of his hands was almost impossible to see. As Hades watched, his twin Artemis leapt up to join him. Hades had never before paid the archeress any mind, but now he saw that she was nimble and tall, towering nearly as high as her brother. She handled her bow with a talent that rivaled Apollo's. The arrows that the twins sent flying hit their mark every time, and their quivers magically refilled.

The battle raged on. Bolts of lightning lit up the sky in a magnificent display, and the wind roared at a fierce speed, whipping Hades' hair about his head as he continued to watch.

The rain came down harder, nearly rendering Hades blind. It was now almost impossible to distinguish friend from foe; the battling warriors were mere shadows in the storm.

It was then that Hades heard Apollo let out a shout. The lord of the head jerked his head up, struggling to locate the archer through the downpour.

Something was very wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

The Olympians had struck down a large portion of the giants' army; presumably, the number of Gigas warriors on the battlefield should have decreased drastically.

Strangely enough, the opposite seemed to be happening. More Gigantes were appearing on the summit of the mountain at an alarming rate, and the giants that were already present should have been dead—but they weren't. In fact, there were no corpses on the ground at all, even though Hades had seen his family's weapons landing deadly blows on enemies.

Finally, the lord of the dead caught sight of Apollo's blond hair—even in the downpour, it was as bright as the sun—and realized that a group of giants was closing in on him. _"They aren't dying!"_ the archer cried out, and there was a hint of panic in the voice that was normally so collected.

Hades was confused for a split second—but then it clicked. _"Herakles is the key to conquering our ancestors once and for all,"_ Zeus had said.

_We can't defeat them without a mortal._

Hades cursed under his breath and sprang forward, dodging Athena and Ares and easily leaping onto the cliff above—his sword appeared in his hand before his feet touched the ground. The blade slashed through the air, glinting even in the dim light, and he snarled as it sliced through flesh. He heard the giant howl with pain and fury, but didn't pause—he whirled around, sword flying in a flurry of movements that came as naturally as breathing, even though it had been centuries since he had wielded the weapon.

The giants were crying out in rage and confusion, unable to see their attacker—they swung their weapons, and Hades dodged their clumsy blows, taking advantage of their weakness when they stopped to look around wildly.

They stood no chance against him. Even if they had been able to see their opponent, they were unfamiliar with sword fighting—it was largely considered to be barbaric, but the Olympian family had turned it into an art.

Nearby, Apollo had thrown his precious bow to the side in favor of his own sword, and when Hades spotted the young god whirling around furiously, he was surprised to note that Apollo—who was certainly an archer through-and-through—was also an adequate swordsman. _Overachiever,_ Hades thought with a mental roll of his eyes.

When the last giant on the cliff had fallen to the ground, Hades strode towards Apollo and grabbed him by the hair. _"You idiot,"_ he snarled into the blond's ear, and if Apollo was taken aback at being grabbed by his invisible uncle, he didn't show it. "Get off of this cliff! You won't be able to fight a group of them off by yourself if they surround you again!"

"Artemis _was_ here," Apollo said sullenly, but winced when Hades' hand tightened in his hair. _"They aren't going to stay dead,"_ he hissed in the archer's ear. "Shouldn't you have foreseen that, you incompetent fool?! Nevermind, it's too late now. I have to go get help…do you think you can keep yourself from grievous injury until I return, or is that too much to ask?"

Apollo looked furious at the insults. He shoved his sopping wet hair out of his face and opened his mouth to make what would probably have been a scathing reply, but Hades cut him off. "I'm leaving. Go make yourself useful."

With that said, he jumped off the cliff.

He was just getting ready to depart when he spotted yet another god being surrounded by enemies—this time, it was Hermes. The young messenger was also wielding a sword, but less effectively than Apollo had. The giants had zeroed in on what was clearly a weak target.

Hades scowled in frustration but sprinted forward, grabbing the messenger by the wrist and dragging him away. At Hades' touch, the messenger also became invisible—they left the giants looking around in befuddlement.

At his side, Hermes was sputtering indignantly.

"It's me, brat," Hades snapped once they had reached a relatively safe spot. "Stop blabbering. I have to go somewhere, so I want you to take this." He wrenched off his helm and shoved it at Hermes.

The herald took it, looking down at Hades' most prized item with wonder.

"Well, don't just stare at it!" Hades said impatiently. "What are you waiting for...a written invitation? Put it on!"

Hermes did so, and Hades got a fleeting glimpse of his sheepish expression before he seemingly vanished into thin air.

Hades stared at the spot where the messenger had been standing. "Take care of yourself, brat," he muttered before disappearing with a flash of light.

 

It didn't take long for the lord of the dead to track down Herakles. He was living with his stepfather, Amphitryon, in Thebes. Hades found the mortal in a field near his house, tending cattle.

Hades pulled his cloak tighter around his body as he approached, shielding his exposed arms from the wind. Herakles looked up as the god drew closer; he didn't look surprised to see Hades. "You again," was his muttered greeting.

"Indeed," Hades agreed, and then abruptly said, "You are to come with me."

Herakles straightened up, and Hades sighed inwardly at the frown on the human's face—he should have known this wasn't going to be easy. "Give me a good reason and maybe I will."

Hades regarded him with narrowed eyes. "Alright," he said coolly. "How's this for a reason: If you don't, I'll break your neck."

The mortal had the audacity to smirk. "I'd like to see you try."

Hades had the insane urge to laugh, but he kept his expression blank and looked Herakles directly in the eye.

They were silent for a long moment, and Herakles appeared to be confused as he stared back at the god—but then his eyes widened in shock, and Hades' eyes sparkled with malice at the sight.

Invisible fingers were squeezing the mortal's throat, compressing his trachea and impeding the blood flowing through his jugular vein and carotid arteries. "Do you feel that?" Hades said in a deadly soft voice. "There isn't any air flowing into your lungs…and blood can't get to your brain. If I don't stop, your cerebral tissue is going to start dying—that is, if you don't asphyxiate first." He let out a short, mirthless laugh. "With a little more pressure, I may even fracture a few bones…"

The mortal's eyes were beginning to glaze over, and Hades sighed out loud before releasing the pressure. He needed the fool alive and conscious, after all.

Herakles crumbled to his knees, and the king waited silently while he recuperated with much hacking, coughing, and gasping. His face became flushed as blood rushed upward, and after a few minutes, he looked up at Hades with a hateful expression.

Hades looked back with a raised eyebrow. "Well?" he drawled. "Are you going to accompany me, or is more persuasion necessary?"

Herakles climbed to his feet, muttering obscenities under his breath. Hades spared him a smirk before turning around to face his chariot—it had conveniently appeared while he had been torturing the mortal. His four horses—each were as black as the darkest of nights—were pawing the ground nervously. They disliked daylight.

He stepped into the chariot and took up the black reins. A seething Herakles followed without being told.

Without further ado, they were off.

 

The battle on Mount Olympus had escalated since Hades' departure, and it was clear that the Olympians were beginning to panic. Bolts of lightning, controlled by Zeus, were flashing through the sky without pause. Boulders and tree trunks continued to soar through the air, and silver arrows were just visible as they cut paths through the storm.

Hades scowled when he saw the arrows—hadn't he told Apollo to stay off the isolated cliffs?

He turned to Herakles, who was already soaked through by the downpour. "It's your job to put an end to this mess," he shouted over the noise of the battle. "We can't kill them without your help—so _go!"_

For once, Herakles listened—he leapt out of the chariot without any protest. After a second's pause, Hades followed him.

The mortal instantly leapt up to Apollo's cliff and produced a bow that Hades hadn't noticed he'd been carrying—soon, a pair of arrows was rushing towards a giant that had been approaching Dionysus. One arrow embedded itself in the giant's right eye, the other in his left. He fell to the ground and didn't get up.

A large number of giants were struck down in this manner before Herakles jumped off the cliff. He whirled around, spotting a giant that had just cornered Hera. The queen had barely uttered a cry for help when a bolt of lightning flashed down from the sky, striking her attacker. A split second later, Herakles pierced the same giant with a fatal arrow.

The Olympians were finally gaining the upper hand, and for the first time, giants were lying dead on the battlefield. Hades engaged a particularly fierce Gigas warrior in a fight—his breath came in short, shallow bursts as he swung, slashed, and dodged, and he was prepared to land the final blow when a stray rock came flying out of nowhere, knocking his sword from his hands.

He froze as a victorious smile crossed his enemy's face—the giant raised his weapon, ready to swing at the unarmed king—

_Whack!_

Hades closed his eyes but soon realized that he was unharmed. He opened one eye, peered around, and saw Dionysus standing before him, holding his staff. He had beaten the giant over the head with it.

Hades stared at the young god incredulously, accepting his sword when Dionysus leaned down and picked it up for him. He couldn't believe that he had just been saved by the youngest Olympian.

Hades didn't have long to be dumbfounded, because just at that moment, the world started to shake. The rain came down harder than ever before, and all at once, hundreds of bolts of lightning cracked through the air, striking each of the remaining Gigas warriors. In the middle of the field stood Zeus, his hands raised towards the sky as he demonstrated the might of Heaven; the air crackled and hummed with electricity.

It was an incredible sight that ended too soon.

The rain slowed to a drizzle and then stopped completely. The silence was deafening. Hades looked around at his family, standing amidst the corpses of their fallen enemies. There was a bloody gash across Apollo's face, and Ares's lower lip was busted. Hermes, who was cradling Hades' helm in one arm, looked relatively unscathed, but now that the rain had stopped, Hades could see that Dionysus had a black eye.

"What—what just happened?" Artemis said uncertainly.

Aphrodite, standing next to her, was gazing at Herakles as she wringed out her dark hair.

Hades returned his dark eyes to Zeus and saw that his brother was looking back at him. "I see you didn't deem it necessary to share all of the facts with the others," Hades intoned.

Zeus sighed. "We were taken by surprise. I didn't have time."

Hades highly doubted that, but he dropped the subject. "My work here is done," was the last thing he said before vanishing on the spot.

 

To his dismay, Hermes followed him home. The messenger, who had dirt streaked across his cheeks and clumped in his hair, fell into a nearby chair without being invited.

"What are you doing?" Hades snapped as he unwrapped his dirty chiton.

Hermes looked surprised at the question. "…sitting?"

"I didn't _ask_ you to sit…nor did I ask you to be here," he said testily.

Hermes sighed at his rude uncle and held up the Helm of Darkness. "I thought you would want this back. And—thank you for letting me use it."

Hades sneered at him. "My brother would surely have murdered me if I had let you get yourself killed."

"We can't be killed," Hermes reminded him, and a hint of the old mischievous sparkle had returned to his eyes.

Hades rolled his eyes, running a hand through his helplessly tangled hair. "You know what I meant, brat. Now get out of my palace."

"Fine," Hermes said, climbing to his feet with a dramatic, longsuffering sigh.

Hades hid an amused smile as the herald flew away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular battle-the Gigantomachy-isn't referenced very often in Greek Mythology, but as described by Apollodorus, it was ultimately the rising up of a group called Gigantes (usually considered to be children of Gaia, who wanted revenge on the Olympians). The myth usually goes that Herakles was destined to help the Olympians slay the Gigantes-the gods wouldn't be able to slay them without his help. When the Gigantes began to approach Mount Olympus, throwing rocks and flaming oak trees, Zeus forbade the Sun, the Moon, and the Dawn to shine. Under the cover of darkness, Athena went in her chariot to collect Herakles and brought him back to the mountain. Hera was indeed cornered by a giant, and Dionysus did kill one with his staff. Apollo and Herakles together shot one in each of his eyes. Hermes slayed one while wearing Hades' helmet. Hecate, Hephaestus, Athena, Poseidon, and Artemis also killed giants. At the end of the battle, Zeus used thunderbolts to slay the rest of them.


	5. Chapter 5

It was standard for Hades' many servants to give him reports on the state of the Underworld, as the king could hardly be everywhere at once. His servants were largely responsible for ensuring that no souls escaped and that no one entered who wasn't supposed to—a duty that they had evidently been neglecting, Hades thought with a scowl. There were also the judges, who decided which part of the Underworld a soul would spend the rest of eternity in; Hecate, a mysterious and extremely powerful goddess who preferred to reside in the dark abyss of Hades' kingdom—she and the king rarely came face-to-face, opting to keep to themselves; and the gods who supervised the rivers of the underworld.

Hades blew a strand of black hair out of his face and shifted in his throne, trying to hide his boredom. There was nothing more tedious than listening to people babble about things he had heard thousands of times before. The Underworld was largely unchanging, if one didn't count the various unwelcome visitors of late. And Hypnos had the most tiresome voice he had ever heard…

The king stifled a yawn and cast the god of sleep a withering look. "Are you quite done?" he wanted to say, but kept his mouth shut.

Hypnos continued to talk.

Hades' fingers tapped faster. His eyes, black in the dim light, stared at the back wall. He no longer cared if he looked attentive.

_CRASH!_

Hades' head, which had begun to droop to the side, snapped up so fast that the bones in his neck made an audible _crack_. "What was that?!" he demanded angrily, but his question was answered almost instantly.

There was a table in a dark corner of the room, upon which rested several bottles of wine and nectar.

When Hades' narrowed eyes darted over to that corner, he was incensed to see that the table was now on its side, and the floor was littered with broken glass, a large puddle, and two bickering gods.

Hades instantly recognized Hermes' voice.

"It was _not_ my fault!" the messenger was shouting. "I actually _know_ how to land! Maybe if you weren't always _drunk…"_

_"I'm not drunk!"_ his companion cried, and Hades let out an audible groan when he recognized the voice as belonging to Dionysus.

"Keep telling yourself that," Hermes snapped. " _Great!_ Just _perfect!_ My favorite cloak—it's _ruined!"_ His voice grew higher as he continued to whine.

"Your _cloak?!_ What about my _hair?!_ It's soaked with—ooh, yum! Is this nectar?"

"Indeed it is," Hades answered furiously. "A priceless bottle of nectar! If I'd known that you would end up shampooing with it, I might have left it in the kitchen. Get off the floor, you imbeciles!"

"You know what, Hades?" Hermes began as he struggled to get up. "If you keep talking to me like that, I might start to think you don't like me!"

From behind him, Hades could hear the sound of stifled laughter. An angry flush appeared on his cheeks as he stormed forward and grabbed both gods by the hair. "Listen to me, you idiots," he hissed. "You're making a fool out of me in my own court! Did you have a reason for coming here, or did you simply wish to embarrass me?"

Dionysus began to giggle hysterically. His breath was sweet and fruity. _He's crazy if he thinks he's not drunk,_ Hades mentally scoffed.

Thanatos stepped forward. "My Lord?" he said hesitantly. "Should we postpone the rest of the meeting?"

Hades opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by Dionysus, whose hands had reached up to grab Hades' wrist. "You're so pretty," the wine god breathed, staring up at the king with wide violet eyes and a slight smile on his face.

Hades let out a cry of disgust and released Dionysus as though he'd been burned, but Dionysus merely latched on to his robes instead.

"Get this drunken moron off of me!" Hades shouted, turning his head to glare at Hermes. Hermes wasn't listening, though. He was busy slyly pocketing the one unbroken bottle of wine.

"Messenger! Put that down before I wring your neck," Hades snapped as he attempted to free his robes of Dionysus's grasp. He twisted his head around to demand that his servants help him, but saw that they had all left the room. _Useless fools._

He took several steps back after finally managing to free himself and glared ferociously at his two visitors: Dionysus, who was now lying on his stomach, and Hermes, who had returned to mourning over his ruined cloak.

"You are a poor excuse for gods," Hades huffed, brushing the wrinkles out of his clothes. "I shall recommend to Zeus that the both of you be castrated at the next opportune moment. Surely such fools should not be allowed to reproduce."

To their credit, neither god looked particularly scared at the admittedly empty threat. "Do you have any more nectar?" Dionysus asked.

Hades heaved a sigh and turned on his heel, his robes snapping behind him. He collapsed on his throne, suddenly feeling exhausted. Even though he'd been alive for thousands of years, it was the first time he felt truly old.

Hermes stepped over his brother and moved forward until he was standing in front of Hades. "I actually did have a reason for coming here."

Hades raised a dark eyebrow. "Oh?"

"There's a rumor going around," he said slyly. His emerald eyes were dancing.

Hades rolled his eyes. "Petty rumors might interest you, Messenger, but I assure you that I have better things to concern myself with."

"Silly me," Hermes snorted. "I forgot that Lord Hades doesn't care if someone challenges his power."

That caught Hades' attention. "Excuse me?"

Hermes grinned. His teeth sparkled even in the dim room. "A little bird told me that Hades—the almighty Lord of the Underworld—isn't as powerful as everyone seems to think. In fact, word is that a certain someone has more power over death than Hades!"

Hades' lips twitched. "And who might this person be?"

"He was just here!" Hermes sang, and Hades was fast losing his patience.

"Tell me!" he demanded.

Hermes grinned impishly one last time before answering. "Thanatos."

Hades froze. His eyes were narrowed angrily. So immersed in his thoughts was he that he didn't even notice when Dionysus, who had finally gotten to his feet, plucked the king's crown off his head and placed it atop his own with an elaborate flourish.

The king finally leapt up and stormed from the room, intent on finding the impious daemon.

He didn't have to look far. Thanatos was standing just outside the door, apparently waiting for the king to immerge. His body stiffened when he saw the anger in his lord's eyes.

"Thanatos," Hades purred, stepping closer to the daemon until they were face-to-face. "I just heard a very interesting story about you."

Fear instantly entered Thanatos's eyes.

Hades put his hands on either side of Thanatos's face, gently stroking his skin. He leaned forward until his lips touched the daemon's ear. "Tell me, little one," he whispered. "Do you think yourself more powerful than I?"

Thanatos trembled. "No—no, Lord Hades," he stammered. "No, of course not…"

One of Hades' hands slipped into his servant's silvery hair. "Then you realize, of course, that you are nothing but a daemon of the underworld, and that I am the god who rules over this abyss and everyone in it?"

Thanatos's trembling had turned into violent shaking. He was dwarfed by the king's tall, powerful frame; Hades towered over him. "I am one of the most powerful beings in the world," the lord hissed. "If I ever again hear that you have been questioning what I'm capable of, you'll come to regret the day you sprung forth from the darkness of this universe." He pulled his head back slightly in order to glare at his captive servant.

The daemon's hands were gripping Hades' wrist. His stormy gray eyes were wide as he stared into the face of his king, whose dark eyes looked all the more fierce against his bloodless skin. His pale lips were twisted into a slight snarl.

"I'm sorry, My Lord," Thanatos said quietly.

Hades stared at him a second longer before releasing his face. "Be glad that you are good at your job, Thanatos," he said darkly. "Otherwise I would have no use for a traitor like you. Do not doubt me again."

Thanatos nodded before slipping away as fast as he possibly could. Hades scowled after him before turning back to the doorway. He came face-to-face with Hermes.

Hades opened his mouth to tell the messenger to move, but something in Hermes' eyes made him pause. The emerald orbs, which were normally full of mischief, were now staring at the king in a way that looked…admiring.

Hades stared at him with uncertainty. "Um—"

It was a very undignified thing to say, and Hades mentally kicked himself. Things were really starting to get out of hand in the Underworld. People had taken to crash-landing in his palace; the ruler had lost his smooth, snarky, eloquent way of talking; and, most irritating of all, the messenger was still staring at him in a very unnerving manner.

"What are you staring at?" Hades asked bluntly, crossing his arms.

"I was watching you," the messenger replied. "Looks like you might have a thing for Thanatos."

_Huh?_

"What are you talking about?" Hades snapped. "I don't have a _'thing'_ for anyone! Not all of us have the libido of a teenage human. Now why don't you do me a favor and get out of my sight? I've seen enough of you this past month to last me the next thousand years!"

"Why don't _you_ stop pretending to hate me?" Hermes snapped back. To Hades' great surprise, his eyes were flashing angrily. "You saved my life! If I annoy you so much, why didn't you just let those giants kill me?"

"Spare me your childish mind tricks," Hades shot back. "I don't have to explain my actions to you, and you won't maneuver me into doing so. Oh, and by the way, you are forgetting that you are a _god._ You wouldn't have been killed with or without my help."

"I'm not trying to _maneuver_ you into doing _anything!"_ Hermes shouted, completely ignoring the last part. "But you must have had a reason for helping me!"

Hades thought he could see where this was going. His lips pressed into a thin line as he eyed his brother's son. _I'm too old for this._

"Do not delude yourself into thinking you're special to me," the king said coldly. "It was not you I was fighting for on that cliff. It was for what we as gods stand for. I fought for the pantheon, and I helped you merely because you are a member—just as I helped Apollo and the rest of you accursed Olympians."

He turned on his heel and stalked in the other direction before he was forced to see the look of hurt on the messenger's young face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanatos was more often considered to be the personification of death, though he does appear in person in some myths.


	6. Chapter 6

Hades was having an extremely strange dream.

He was lying on a blanket next to a large swimming pool. There was some sort of strange contraption on his face, covering his eyes; it was like he was looking through circles of darkened glass.

When he sat up, he realized that he was completely naked except for some sort of clothing that was similar to a loincloth, except that it covered part of his thighs as well.

Looking around, he saw that the area was completely deserted. The pool was surrounded by a circular building, but there was no one in sight.

Or so he thought.

"It's nice, isn't it?"

Hades blanched when he heard the voice but quickly regained his composure. He turned in the direction it was coming from and saw Hermes standing waist-deep in the pool. The messenger's torso was bare and his hair was soaking wet; he was leaning against the side with his elbows propped on the ground and his chin in his hands. He looked pensive.

"Where am I?" Hades asked.

Hermes' eyes flicked in the direction of the king, but he didn't answer the question. Beads of water were rolling down his arms. "I like it here. It actually makes me excited about the future, even though everything's going to change."

The messenger shifted, and the splashing of water broke the silence. A hand reached up to dart through his sopping hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

Hades stared at him through the darkened-glass circles. "I may or may not find you even more annoying in my dreams than I do in real life," he said testily. "Leave it to my mind to create a more annoying version of a person I thought couldn't get more annoying in the first place."

Hermes looked vaguely surprised. "'Dreams'? You think this is a dream?"

"No, I don't _think,_ " Hades snapped. "I _know_. I remember going to sleep, and now I'm _here,_ wearing some sort of weird apparatus on my face and listening to you babble on about the future…which I'm fairly sure is something I would never do while properly conscious."

"Well, it might be a dream," Hermes conceded, "but certainly not a normal one. Your mind couldn't invent all of this." He waved a hand around.

"And yours could?"

Hermes smiled slightly. The expression was only a shadow of the brilliant grin the messenger usually had on his face. "No offense, but I think I have more talent for inventing things than you do."

Hades opened his mouth angrily, fully prepared to put the brat in his place, which was several notches down from where he currently was.

Hermes went on before the king could say a word. "I didn't invent this place, though."

"Then what is it and why am I here?"

Hermes hoisted his body up and sat on the edge of the pool. As Hades watched, he pulled a knee up to his chest and rested his chin upon it. "This is the future, Hades."

" _Lord_ Hades," he corrected through gritted teeth. "And since when can you see the future?"

"Since Apollo gave me the power to. I don't particularly enjoy doing it, but this," he gestured around again, " _this_ I love. Everything is so—immaculate."

"You haven't explained why I'm here," Hades said impatiently.

Hermes looked up slowly. His eyes stared directly into Hades'. "That's because I don't know the answer, _My Lord,_ " he said softly. "That's something you have to answer on your own."

 

Hades' eyes snapped open. He sat up, blinking in confusion.

It had been nearly a year since Hermes and he had shared a conversation that was not about the delivery of messages. Why was he dreaming about the messenger now?

Or had that dream belonged to him at all?

With an angry huff, Hades leapt out of bed and dressed quickly. He stormed out of the room, alerted his servants that he was leaving, and then departed for Mount Olympus.

He met Zeus at the gates of the Olympian palace. His brother appeared shocked to see him. "Hades! What are you—" His voice trailed off as his eyes widened. "You look terrible."

Hades had neglected to brush his hair or put on his normal kingly accessories.

"Thanks so much," Hades said sarcastically. "Where is the messenger?"

Shock morphed into vague surprise. "Hermes? I don't know. He might still be sleeping. What do you—?"

Hades didn't wait for him to finish. Without another word, he marched past his brother and headed in the direction of the gods' rooms in the east wing of the palace. Hermes' room was the last on the right side of the hallway, and when Hades arrived at the door, he flung it open without bothering to knock.

"Wake up!" he snarled as he advanced into the room.

Hermes was sprawled across his bed, the covers bunched up around his legs and arms flung limply to the side. He didn't move.

Hades stalked forward and swooped down until his face was mere inches from the messenger's. _"Wake up!"_ he spat.

This time, Hermes began to stir. His forehead crinkled and his eyes fluttered open. He blinked sleepily.

It was several second before Hermes' mind focused, but when it did, he let out a squawk and scrambled away from the intruder, who was still looming over him with his teeth bared and a mess of black hair framing his pale face. It was a frightening image.

_"What are you doing in my room?!"_

"What are _you_ doing in my _dreams?!"_ was the furious retort. "I warn you, herald: If you continue to toy around with my mind, there _will_ be consequences!"

"What—?"

"I knew you were upset that I snapped at you, but this is going too far!"

"Er—"

"I hope your wise, all-knowing father has a long talk with you about this!" Hades went on furiously. "What a _wonderful_ job he's doing as king: Letting his moronic sons use _mind trickery_ on lords!"

"I don't know what you're talking about but I didn't do anything to you!" Hermes finally managed to shout when Hades stopped to breathe.

Hades sneered at him. "Do you really think I'm going to fall for that? You've been angry at me for a year—holding your childish grudges just because I spurned you—and now you're finally getting your petty revenge! You're supposed to send dreams to _mortals_...not _me!"_

Hermes stared at him for a long moment before sighing deeply and rubbing his eyes. "Did you really storm in here at the crack of dawn just to accuse me of—well, whatever it is you were yelling about?"

Hades snorted and turned away. "Oh, spare me the act of innocent confusion. I wasn't born yesterday. You may be smart, but not smart enough to deceive me." He turned back around. "I'm only going to tell you this once, so listen closely. _Stay out of my head or I will make you regret it._ I don't know what sort of twisted fantasies your mind has concocted about the two of us, but it would be in your best interest to _drop them!_ We will never have a relationship that is anything other than professional. We are not going to be friends, and no amount of deceit and lies on your part will ever change that. Do you understand? Stop annoying me. Stop visiting me—consciously and unconsciously."

Hades should have known that the messenger wouldn't continue to back down, but he was still surprised when Hermes jumped off the bed and faced him with his emerald eyes flashing. "Your mask is impressive, _Lord Hades,_ " he snapped, "but I'm not buying it. I've seen the other side of you. You aren't evil. You aren't cruel. You don't hate anyone. Do you know what I think? I think you've been alone for too long. You've had all these years to make yourself nice and bitter, to mope about how you got the short end of the stick back when you were young. Now you need to let it go. All I want to do is help you!"

There was a long pause, during which Hades regarded Hermes coolly. Finally, he spoke. "Not only did you completely miss the point," he said icily, "but you are also completely wrong. I don't need help with anything."

He turned around to leave, but just before he did, he looked over his shoulder. "Remember what I said, messenger. I meant everything."

With that said, he left. The door closed with a snap.

He didn't expect the door to burst open a mere five seconds later, before he'd even gotten halfway down the hall. Hermes stormed out of his room, and before Hades could tell him to go away, the messenger had ahold of the back of his chiton. "I'm not going to let you go! Not like this!"

Hades was enraged. He spun around, forcing Hermes to release him. "I wonder," the king hissed, "what you hope to accomplish by this. Do you perhaps wish to lose a limb? Did my words go in one ear and out the other?"

_"Just give me a chance!"_ Hermes demanded. "That's all I'm asking! Why is that so hard for you?"

Hades shoved his tangled hair out of his face, the better to glare at the young Olympian. "A chance to do _what,_ exactly? To _help_ me? I told you: _I don't need help!"_

Hades paused to take a deep breath. His dark eyes never left the messenger's.

He was horrified when Hermes reached a hand out, his fingers coming dangerously close to the king's pale face. The hand never touched his skin, though; instead, it slid into Hades' black hair, moving through the messy locks in a way that most certainly was _not_ pleasant.

Hades was too petrified to react. This had never happened to him before. Never had someone been this bold.

The contact only lasted for a split second; for Hades, it felt like a century.

Hermes drew his hand back. The expression on his face was unreadable as he held up his fingers for Hades to see. "You had something in your hair," he mumbled, and sure enough, there was a piece of fuzz pinched between his thumb and index finger.

Hades stared at the tiny bit of fluff before flicking his eyes up to the messenger's face.

To his great surprise, the unreadable expression was no longer there. Instead, a mischievous smile had lighted up Hermes' features.

Hades was dismayed. He hated that smile. It always made him feel like he was missing something—or like he had been tricked. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he heard himself ask.

Hadn't they been yelling at each other just two minutes ago?

"You're cute when you're confused."

_That_ was going too far. Hades ground his teeth together, but as he was prone to do, the messenger kept talking before he could respond.

"I wish you would visit Olympus more often."

Once again, he was speaking in the bubbly voice that Hades found so annoying. "Why?" the lord of the dead asked sarcastically. "So we can work on our budding friendship?"

"Exactly," Hermes said brightly, and Hades was seriously beginning to wonder if the young god was bipolar. How had they gone from fighting to…well, whatever this was?

"Were you not listening to me when I said we would never be friends?"

"I was hoping we could forget about that entire argument."

Hades eyed him suspiciously. He knew exactly what Hermes was doing. He had decided that deceit and lies wouldn't work on the king, and now he was trying a different tactic. Well, two could play at that game.

Hades exhaled loudly and did his best to look defeated. "Messenger, if it'll keep you from annoying me so much, you may do whatever you want. I'm tired of fighting with you."

Hermes looked like Yule had come early; his grin was nearly blinding.

Hades had to fight to keep from smirking. How could such a smart person be so gullible?

"You mean you'll let me be your friend?"

"No," Hades said curtly. "I mean I'll give you a fair chance to win my friendship. I'll do my best not to fight your attempts."

_As if. The day I let anyone be my friend is the day I sing love songs with Apollo, have a sleepover with my brothers, and hand out sweets to my servants._

"I accept the challenge," Hermes was saying, and Hades tilted his head.

"Good. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to take my leave. I fear that I'm not quite presentable, and I would like to change before the rest of the pantheon wakes up." It was probably the least snarky thing he had ever said to anyone, and the words felt odd in his mouth. It seemed very unusual to explain his actions to another person.

Hermes was looking him up and down, and when Hades noticed, the amiable expression he had forced onto his face quickly changed into a glare.

"I think you look good," Hermes said cheekily. "The rumpled bedhead look really suits you."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Hades snapped. The friendship was off to a wonderful start.

"Aw, but Hades," Hermes teased. "Don't friends share opinions?"

With an annoyed huff, Hades spun around and left his new 'friend' behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sort of divination that Hermes could do in mythology is nothing like what I describe here, with visions and such. He actually used pebbles. But he was a "bringer of dreams", according to Homer in Hymn 4. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

He knew he was dreaming again before he even opened his eyes. A strange scent was filling his nostrils; it smelled like food, but not anything that Hades was familiar with. He could hear a clatter of noise and the low chatter of voices.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.

His head had been resting on a wooden table, and when he lifted it up, he saw a small group of people standing at a counter. He recognized each of them, even though they were all dressed in a manner that told Hades that the messenger had decided to drag him on another trip to the future.

Hermes was wearing a flower-print apron and a hat that resembled a piece of cauliflower. He was busily cutting up something that Hades didn't recognize; they were ugly, brown, oval-shaped things. Sizzling and popping noises were coming from a pot on a type of stove Hades had never seen before.

Hermes was right. The future looked immaculate.

Dionysus was standing at the messenger's elbow; his future appearance was a drastic change from present-day. His long hair had been cropped short and was spiked up. His hands were shoved in the pockets of the blue jeans he was wearing. The only thing that hadn't changed was the dreamy expression on his face.

On the other side of Dionysus was Apollo, who looked just about as happy to be there as Hades felt. His hair was still long, pulled back in a ponytail; his expression was murderous. The top few buttons of his dark red shirt were undone, and his ankles were crossed as he leaned against the counter. His fingers were drumming an erratic beat.

Ares was standing at Hermes' other elbow, appearing to be a cross between dazed and confused. Ridiculously, Hades felt the urge to laugh at the design on the war god's shirt: It was a skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth. Beneath the design was the word "morsmordre", written in the Latin alphabet. Hades vaguely recognized the Latin words for "death" and "bite" but wasn't quite sure what it meant.

"Messenger, I thought I told you to desist from the unconscious visits," Hades finally drawled.

Hermes looked up from his chopping and grinned. "I deemed your words defunct once I accepted your challenge."

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, my words are still 'funct'!" Hades snapped. "How am I supposed to get a good night's sleep when you keep dragging me to your little parties-in-the-future?"

"The proper term is 'non-defunct', or 'valid'," Apollo said, still looking annoyed. "But I, too, am curious as to why I'm here."

Everyone ignored him.

"This is fair play, Hades," Hermes said, gesturing around with the knife and causing Ares and Apollo to step away warily. Dionysus didn't seem to care. "It's easier for me this way. Getting you to spend time with me while you're conscious is harder than it sounds."

"Well, if you insist on invading my dreams, could you at least make the setting somewhere in the present? And what in the name of Zeus are you cooking? It stinks."

"Potato soup," Hermes said happily, holding up one of the ugly brown things. "I can't wait till potatoes are brought to Greece. They're delicious."

Apollo snorted in contempt. "When I gave you the power of divination, this wasn't how I intended for you to use it."

Once again, no one responded to him.

"And what is in the pot?" Hades asked, eyeing it like he expected it to jump up and attack him.

"Bacon!" was the cheerful answer. "It's kind of different from what we eat in our time. You'll see." As he spoke, he poured a cup of water into the pot. It sizzled even louder.

Ares picked up a large onion off the counter and tossed it from hand to hand. For the first time, Hades noticed that there was a silver hoop in one of his ears. The king had the urge to giggle again.

Maybe he was finally going crazy.

"So...you think feeding me potato soup is a good way to win my friendship?" Hades asked, propping his chin up on his folded hands.

"Who said I'm feeding you anything?" Hermes countered, tossing chopped potatoes into his now-boiling concoction. His strange hat looked like it was ready to fall off; it was leaning to one side.

"I suppose I simply assumed that you couldn't eat that entire pot of soup on your own," Hades drawled. "You don't weigh one-hundred-and-twenty pounds dripping wet."

"I do too!" was the indignant response. "I probably weigh more than you do. Besides, weight has _nothing_ to do with how much a person can eat. I knew this one girl-""

Hades rolled his eyes and cut him off. "Enough of this childish argument."

Onions went into the pot. "Hey, Apollo," Hermes said. "Don't you think Hades looks good when he isn't all dressed up and immaculately groomed?"

It was hard to say who looked more horrified: Hades or Apollo. Hades looked down and realized that he was wearing the same plain, white chiton he had worn to bed; running a hand through his hair, he felt a number of tangles and stray strands. He groaned. It was the second time in a number of days he had appeared without every lock of hair perfectly in place, as it usually was in public.

Although Apollo was too shocked by the question to answer, violet eyes came to rest on the disheveled king. "He does look good," Dionysus agreed in his languid way.

Ares made a face at his youngest brother.

"Told you so," Hermes said to Hades.

"I refuse to believe you just because a drunken moron agrees with your opinion," Hades retorted, "and I won't listen to anything that comes out of your mouth, either. Not when you look so utterly _ridiculous!"_

Hermes ran his hands down the front of his apron and grinned. "You don't like it?"

"I was actually referring to the hat," Hades sneered. "The apron is simply the finishing touch on all the idiocy."

Hermes rolled his eyes but pulled the hat off, and Hades saw that his hair, normally chin-length or longer, had also been cut off. It made him look older. Now if he would just lose the apron…

Hades shook his head sharply. No doubt about it. He'd definitely gone crazy. He ran his fingers through his own hair, absently trying to smooth out the tangles.

Hermes, who had tossed the hat aside, watched him with an amused expression. "You know, I didn't think this was possible, but you might be more fanatical about your hair than Apollo is about his. I don't get how the both of you can stand having such long hair. It would drive me insane."

"Well, good thing we didn't ask for your opinion, then," Hades snapped, and Apollo grumbled his agreement.

"It makes the lot of you look like girls," Ares scoffed.

Hades glared at him. "Ares, we might be in a dream, but lest you forget, I can still break every bone in your body once we wake up."

"I think we're too sexy to look like girls," Dionysus said lazily.

"Some of us, maybe," Apollo said. "You actually _do_ look like a girl."

Dionysus didn't argue. Ares snorted.

The concoction in the pot was now boiling merrily, and Hermes washed his hands before walking around the counter and then plopping onto the tabletop in front of Hades. Hades glanced up at him with smoldering dark eyes. "Can you not sit in a chair like a normal person?"

"I took the opportunity to be able to look down at you for once," Hermes said playfully. "You're really tall, you know."

"Oh, am I really? I hadn't realized. By the way, why is it that everyone in your merry band of friends gets to wear new clothes, and I'm still wearing _this?"_

Hermes' eyes sparkled wickedly, and he leaned closer to Hades with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I told you," he said in an undertone. "I think you look cute."

"I am not _'cute'_ in any way, shape, or form," Hades hissed back.

"Mm," Hermes hummed softly. The look in his eyes was unnerving. Hades was strongly reminded of the day Dionysus and the messenger had crash-landed in his palace; he'd had the same look then.

Hades rubbed his fingers against his temples, trying to massage away the impending headache. "This is how the world is going to end: At the hands of my brother's brats. And I shall be the first to die."

"Don't be dramatic. You'll learn to like me. Everyone does."

_"Don't be stupid,"_ Hades said, mocking the messenger's voice. "I've always thought you were insolent and irritating. The time we've spent together recently has only reassured me that I'm always right."

Hermes leaned nearer still, and Hades fought the strong urge to jump up and run. He did not like being this close to other people. It was unsettling. The herald was so close that Hades could see a smattering of freckles on his nose and the different shades in his eyes. It looked like there was a ring of gold around his pupil. Hades had never noticed that before…

 

The king looked completely shell-shocked, and Hermes grinned slightly. He loved being able to unravel the cold-hearted lord of the dead.

The messenger tilted his head slightly, examining Hades. It was the first time he'd been this close to the older god, if one didn't include the time he'd burst into Hermes' room and hovered over his bed like a creepy stalker.

His skin was translucent, nothing short of alabaster, stretched tautly over his sharp features. His lips were bloodless, and the skin beneath his eyes looked slightly bruised. His eyes, though, were breathtaking: Rich brown, nearly black, but with flecks of a lighter color that Hermes had yet to put a name to. His powerful hands were balled into fists on the table in front of him; Hermes glanced at the hands before moving his eyes back up to the king's face. If the messenger didn't know better, he would say that Hades looked almost _frightened._ Of what, though?

Without thinking of the consequences, Hermes stretched one arm out, moving until his fingers rested lightly on the back of Hades' hand. "Are you scared, My Lord?"

The words were dangerously soft and dark, and Hermes wondered at his ability to get himself into such perilous situations. He had completely lost sight of why he'd gotten involved with one of the most dangerous, powerful gods in existence, and what he'd hoped to gain from this.

He had known he was taking a risk by touching Hades, because honestly…most people were afraid to so much as utter his _name,_ let alone invade his personal space. He hadn't, however, expected rage to flash into the older god's eyes.

 

Hades leapt out of his chair and took several swift steps backwards. His eyes screwed tightly shut. This _had_ to stop. It _had_ to!

It was the second time the brat had dared to put his hands near Hades, and the king was no longer frightened of how it made him feel.

He was _terrified._

Long ago, Hades had decided to separate himself from the rest of the world. The world had chosen to banish him to Erebus, the dark netherworld, and he had chosen to cut his heart off from them. Having feelings was useless, particularly when one is forced to associate with the spirits of the dead—who are no longer able to feel—on a daily basis.

Most of his fellow gods were different in that regard. They let their emotions rule them, and their emotions put them in compromising situations time and time again. They let themselves care. They let themselves love, and feel _human._ How many times had his brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews fallen in love with others? How many times had their hearts been broken? Hades had lost count. Eventually, he'd stopped caring. It wasn't going to be him. He wouldn't let that happen.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, finally daring to open his eyes and meet the confused emerald gaze across from him.

"What…?"

_"I said don't!"_

Touching was human. Touching had the potential to tear down the thick walls Hades had built around his emotions.

Hermes stared at him through narrowed eyes, and Hades mentally cursed this young herald, who was known as the 'keen-eyed genius of the gods' for a reason. "You are scared."

His composure broke. Before Hades knew it, he was shouting. _"I'm so tired of this!_ I'm tired of being _manipulated,_ and _lied to,_ and being so _confused_ … _all because of you!_ What gives you the right to do this to me?!" 

He didn't notice when Apollo, Ares, and Dionysus stopped whispering amongst themselves and turned around to watch with shocked expressions on their faces. His voice was growing hoarse from yelling, but he didn't care.

"I don't want to feel! I _don't!_ That's not who I am. _This_ is who I am! I've been alone for _centuries!_ I never wanted to know you, or any of your moronic siblings, and I was perfectly happy forgetting that I ever knew my own brothers and sisters! I don't want friends! _I don't want you!"_

His voice cracked, and he stopped to take deep breaths. His eyes lowered to stare at the ground, fixating on it, trying to still his pounding heart. Anger and fear were still rushing through his body.

The room was dead silent except for the bubbling pot on the stove. When Hades lifted his eyes several minutes later, he saw that Hermes was still gazing at him. "What?!" he attempted to snap, but much to his disgust, the word sounded choked.

"When I was just an infant, I learned something. Do you know what?"

"That it makes Apollo really angry when you steal his stuff?" Hades managed to sneer.

In the background, Apollo scowled. Hermes allowed a quick smile to flash across his face before his expression once again turned serious. "No. I learned that it's okay to feel. We _should_ feel."

Hades snorted. "Messenger, even if I was inclined to learn this lesson, I don't think I would want you to be the one to teach me. You feel a little _too_ well, I fear. Are there any girls left in the world with whom you have not yet fathered a child?"

"That's not quite what I mean," Hermes said, not looking fazed by the disguised insult. In fact, he seemed slightly amused. "What I'm trying to say is that it isn't dangerous to feel. You don't have to make yourself ruthless and cruel in order to avoid being hurt. Having emotions isn't a direct recipe for that." He gestured to the pot behind him and grinned slightly. "C'mon…that's like saying that having potatoes means you automatically have to make potato soup."

"That makes absolutely no sense," Hades said dryly. "In the future, refrain from using food to make your point."

"It makes a little bit of sense," Hermes said cheekily. "And it got you back to being your normal, sarcastic, rude self. Which was kind of the whole point."

"I thought the point was to get me to _feel."_ He sneered on the last word.

"Having emotions doesn't mean you have to stop being sarcastic and rude. I don't think I'd know what to do if you suddenly started being nice," Hermes said with a smirk. "Maybe you could start cooking me dinner…serenading me in the bath…massaging my feet…"

"I'd sooner profess my undying love for Cerberus."

"Why did you panic when I touched you?"

The question was so sudden and unexpected that all Hades could do was open his mouth and close it again. Eventually, he came to his senses. "I didn't _'panic',_ " he snapped. "Mind your own business if you know what's good for you."

"As your friend—and as the person whose touch made you fly into some sort of crazed frenzy—I think it _is_ my business."

"I—you haven't earned my friendship yet!" was the irritable response.

"Well, at least you aren't yelling about how you don't want friends, anymore. Progress, you know? But I still want to know. Please…tell me."

A pain had formed behind Hades' eyes. He gritted his teeth.

Then he woke up.


	8. Chapter 8

  
"A tortured soul have I become  
It keeps me safe and leaves me numb  
'Cause in this dream I'm wide awake  
The one I love I did forsake..."  
_Seether,_ _Save Today_  


He couldn't shake the headache, not even hours after the dream. It didn't get better; if anything, it got steadily worse, spreading from the front of his head all the way to the top and back of his skull. Thinking that fresh air might help, he staggered out of his palace and then out of the Underworld altogether.

He wasn't sure which part of the world he had appeared in, only that the sun was blissfully hidden behind dark clouds. He was fairly certain that his head might have exploded if his eyes had been assaulted by bright rays of light.

The king plopped onto the ground, slumping against a nearby log. Looking around for the first time, he realized that he was surrounded by greenery. Apparently, he had landed himself in the middle of a forest. He only allowed himself a brief glance before closing his eyes tightly and tangling his hands in his hair, pulling on the strands in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure under his scalp.

The last time a god had gotten a headache this bad, Athena had sprung out of Zeus's skull. Hades wondered if he should pay Hephaestus and his ax a visit.

He rested his head against the log, not caring that pieces of rotten bark were digging into his cheeks and getting caught in his hair. One hand dropped from his hair and fell into the grass, where his fingers proceeded to curl into a fist around the long blades. In the distance, he could hear the soothing melody of a creek.

He wasn't sure how much time passed in that manner, but the next thing he knew, a sharp _crack_ was breaking the relative silence of the forest. Glancing up, Hades instantly spotted the culprit: Apollo was standing several feet away, and he had stepped on a fallen tree branch. It had broken under his weight.

Hades cast him a withering look. "Must you make such a racket?" He knew very well that Apollo never made any noise unless he meant to. He could travel as quietly as a mouse if he so wished.

Apollo flicked his braid over his shoulder, looking as impassive as always. "I was standing here for ten minutes and you never noticed. How else was I supposed to get your attention?"

"I hear 'hello' works well," Hades muttered, rubbing his temples.

Apollo didn't respond; instead, he fell to his knees and began to rip up handfuls of grass. Hades stared at him, aghast; had his nephew gone insane? After a several minutes—during which time Hades had been too stunned to ask _exactly_ what Apollo was doing—the king realized that the patch of ground the blond had cleared of grass was a perfect circle.

_Oh…_

Apollo stood up and Hades noticed that instead of the usual bow and quiver, there was a pouch of some sort strapped across his back and resting against his hip. Hades stared at the pouch and then back at the bare patch of ground before his eyes came to a rest on Apollo's face. "What are you doing out here?"

"I came with Artemis and her friends," Apollo answered. He was walking around with his gaze trailed upon the ground, clearly looking for something.

"That doesn't explain what you're doing here with me," Hades muttered sullenly, but Apollo didn't hear him; he had just stuck his head into an overgrowth of weeds. When he straightened up, he was carrying a large rock. He set the stone on the outside of the patch before heading back into the foliage, presumably to look for more rocks to complete the circle. The king sighed and closed his eyes. If Apollo insisted on being here, well, Hades didn't have to be conscious for it. He leaned back against the log, put his arms over his face, and closed his eyes.

He drifted into an uneasy, fitful sort of sleep, blissfully free of potato soup, messengers, and headaches. Hades would have gladly stayed in the realm between consciousness and dreamland if not for the second loud _crack_ of the day that jerked him awake.

"Wazzit?!" he attempted to demand, but his words was heavy with the effects of sleep. To his bemusement, he sounded more like an irritated frog than the Lord of the Underworld.

_Crack!_

Apollo was several feet away, effortlessly snapping long branches into smaller pieces with one foot. The bare patch of ground in front of him had been turned into a fire pit, surrounded by rocks and filled with tinder and kindling.

"It's too hot out here to build a fire," Hades croaked, hating how weak he sounded.

"How else am I supposed to boil water?" Apollo countered. He had finished with the branches and moved on to stripping a sheet of bark from a nearby tree with a knife he had pulled from a place Hades didn't want to know about.

"Sometimes I find you very pathetic for a god," Hades sneered as he waved his hand at the fire pit. A flame instantly appeared in the tinder and spread rapidly to the kindling…much faster than a natural fire could.

Hades took a twisted sort of pleasure in the look of astonishment that spread across Apollo's face. "How—how did you do that?"

Even the pain from his headache didn't keep Hades from shooting a smug look at his nephew. "Hephaestus discovered a way to harness the power of fire from places where it naturally manifests. He taught it to my brothers and me. I'm surprised someone with your abilities never learned how to do so on your own."

The astonished expression rapidly morphed into an ugly look of jealousy and anger. It didn't suit Apollo at all. Much to Hades' surprise, however, the archer didn't respond to his uncle's barb. Instead, he opened the pouch at his hip with stiff movements.

Hades watched, still somewhat amused, as the younger god pulled out a number of items with his nimble fingers; there were several herbs and plants that appeared to have been recently picked, as well as vials full of unidentifiable liquids and a mortar and pestle. He sat each item next to the fire before pulling a clay mug from the pouch, turning on his heel, and stalking away. When he returned, the mug was full of water. He set it on a flat rock that he'd already placed in the pit and then began collecting the sticks and branches that he had so noisily broken. He placed them around the kindling in what resembled a small tent, and the fire grew steadily bigger. Hades could feel the waves of heat even from his spot several feet away.

The king was tempted to ask what Apollo needed to boil water for, but wasn't sure the blond would answer since Hades had effectively angered him. He kept silent, trying to ignore the dull ache in his head. The pain had grown more noticeable now that Hades was no longer distracted.

Apollo was now settling himself next to the fire, pulling the mortar and pestle closer to him. The plants and herbs went into the mortar, and _whack whack whack_ went the pestle, much harder than was strictly necessary. The obnoxious noise seemed the resound through Hades' head, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. The racket died down to soft _clinks_ after a minute—though to Hades it seemed more like a century—and eventually stopped altogether. Even so, he didn't open his eyes to see what Apollo was doing. With his eyes closed, he could pretend he was alone and that there were no unwelcome Olympians invading his privacy.

That was, until _someone_ jabbed a finger into his shoulder.

Hades' eyes snapped open angrily. _"What?!"_ he demanded.

Apollo was squatting in front of him. The mug from before was clutched in his hands. Tendrils of steam were rising from it, dancing towards the sky. Hades lifted his eyes from the mug to Apollo's face and saw that the Olympian was wearing a hard expression. "Drink."

"Are you giving me orders?" Hades heard himself say.

Apollo's lip curled. He carefully placed the mug on the ground next to him before setting his elbows on his knees and staring at Hades coolly. "I'm trying to help you. You are clearly in a great deal of pain, and I just so happen to be familiar with medicine. You, on the other hand, are not. So unless you would like to continue feeling as though Athena is knocking on the inside of your skull, I think I'm entitled to give you orders."

"Well, think again, you insolent child," Hades snapped. "Maybe you can give me orders when you become king of the gods. Not that I think that'll ever happen, if the botched revolution you and Poseidon staged is anything to go by."

Apollo was many things, but patient he was not. An angry flush spread rapidly across his face. "Do you want my help or not?" he demanded.

Hades met his glare for several seconds before huffing and snatching the mug out of the blond's hands. He drank deeply, only flinching slightly when the near-boiling concoction scorched his tongue. When the cup was empty, he tossed it aside and took a deep breath.

Apollo eyed the discarded mug before turning his gaze back to Hades. His lips twitched slightly, almost as though he was fighting back a smile. "You needn't have drunk it so fast. I wasn't going to steal it back."

"If it's going to make this headache go away, faster is better."

"Tell me that tomorrow when you're begging me to make the burns in your mouth go away," Apollo said with a snort.

"Duly noted." And maybe it was his imagination, but Hades thought he could already feel the pain ebbing away.

They were quiet for a long while. Hades leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Just as the king began to doze off for the second time that morning, Apollo's low, melodic voice broke the silence. "I noticed that you've become rather close to Hermes."

Hades opened one eye to offer his nephew a contemptuous look. "Your observational skills need work. _He_ has become close to _me_. Not I to him. He is the bane of my existence."

"He certainly seems drawn to you. He hasn't made such a strong effort to annoy someone since—"

"Since he stole your sacred cows. Yes, yes, I know," Hades said wryly. "You've only been complaining about it for the past century."

"—since he stole my cattle, and he certainly never dragged me to the future or called me _cute—"_

"That's because you aren't cute," Hades bit out, not liking where this conversation was going. "What you are is the spitting image of my ugly brother."

"—but there's something you need to know."

"I seriously doubt that there's anything you _need_ to tell me, but somehow I don't think that will stop you from saying it anyway," Hades muttered, examining his fingernails.

Apollo lifted his gaze from the ground, staring at his uncle beneath his thick lashes. "I'm in love with Hermes."

The words hung in the air, and the ensuing silence was so heavy that Hades suddenly felt as though he was suffocating.

When it became clear that the king wasn't going to say anything, Apollo went on. "I wanted you to know before anything happened between the two of you…"

That provoked a response. "What are you talking about?" Hades snarled, feeling irrationally angry. "Why would anything happen?! _Nothing is going to happen!"_

"Well—"

"Even if he _did_ have—" The next words caught in his throat, and he took a deep breath before starting over. "Even if he did have feelings for me, I certainly don't have feelings for him. That makes this entire conversation moot."

Apollo tilted his head. Hades didn't like his expression _at all_. It seemed like the healer was analyzing the very depths of his soul. "Is that why you looked so shocked when I said that I loved him?"

"I—of course I was shocked!" Hades snapped. "I thought you hated him!"

"I tried to hate him," Apollo said quietly. "But there are things about him that I simply can't hate. His eyes…his humor…his laugh…"

"That's enough!" Hades said hastily, not wanting to hear anymore. He didn't need to hear about Apollo's fantasies.

He was very purposefully _not_ thinking about the way the messenger got a sparkle in his eyes when he said something clever, or about the dimples that appeared in his cheeks when he smiled. If he had been looking at Apollo instead of glaring at a nearby tree, he might not have missed the triumphant smirk that flitted across the blond's face before disappearing as quickly as it had come.

"I apologize, Lord Hades. It seems I've upset you."

Hades was too sullen to respond. He leaned his head forward, letting his hair fall like a curtain between the younger god and him. When he looked back up several minutes later, Apollo had disappeared. So had the fire. There was no evidence to suggest that he'd ever been there.


	9. Chapter 9

Hades was sitting at his desk, staring down at a letter from Hel, a Norse goddess, without actually seeing the words. His mind was on other things.

He heard his office door open, but didn't bother raising his head.

"My Lord?" Charon's voice, though respectful, sounded rather harried. "The brat is here to see you. He insisted that I bring him with me."

"I'm not a brat!" Hermes' voice protested. "You're just jealous because _I_ can fly and _you_ have to keep rowing that stupid boat!"

"What do you want?" Hades sighed, finally looking up.

Hermes was dressed head to toe in his messenger garb. His shaggy black hair was windblown, and his green eyes were sparkling merrily. He moved closer to Hades' desk with silent footsteps before sinking gracefully into a chair. "I have some messages for you!" he announced as he leaned back and kicked his feet up on the desk. His golden sandals landed directly on top of Hel's letter. Hades scowled.

"First of all," Hermes continued, "Zeus wants you to join him for breakfast tomorrow morning. There are matters that he needs to discuss with you. Also, Hestia asked me to tell you that she thinks you should visit Olympus more often. She said to tell you that we're family, and families should spend time together."

Hermes was tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. His foot, still atop the desk, bopped along to a beat only he could hear. Hades fought the urge to sigh for a second time.

The herald went on. "And there have been a lot more lost souls than usual…I'm starting to think you should hire someone to help Charon and me because that's a lot of work for just the two of us to do. I do have other jobs, you know…"

"Shouldn't you be on a date with Apollo instead of bothering me?" Hades interrupted curtly. "I was in the middle of something, and your incessant chattering isn't helping me concentrate."

"Well, I—wait, what?" The foot-bopping and finger-tapping came to an abrupt halt.

"So he's deaf as well as noisy," Hades muttered.

Hermes took his feet off the desk and leaned forward. "What did you say about Apollo?"

Now beyond vexed, Hades threw down the pen he'd been holding and fixed the messenger with an angry look. "If Apollo loves you so much, I'm sure he'd be happy to have your oh-so-delightful company. Go annoy him instead!"

Hermes raised a dark eyebrow. "There's a better chance of you inviting Herakles to your next dinner party than of Apollo loving me."

"I don't have dinner parties," Hades snapped.

"My point exactly."

Hades rolled his eyes. What a ridiculous way to make a point. "He _told_ me that he's in love with you, you imbecile."

"That's impossible," Hermes said, his voice flat. "There's no way. He tried to shoot me in the eye yesterday! People don't do that to people they love!"

Hades wasn't going to grace that with an answer, so he remained silent. Even without prompting, the herald continued to mutter to himself as he stared at a small watermark on the desk. "I don't understand. He—he can't love me. There's no way."

"Unless he decided to pull the most idiotic prank in the history of the universe, there is definitely a way," Hades snapped. "And just to be clear, Apollo does not strike me as the pranking type."

"—he's not," Hermes admitted. "But why..."

Hades didn't wait for him to finish the sentence. He'd already heard enough. "I don't know and I don't care. I refuse to discuss the matter further. Get out of my sight."

To Hades' dismay, the messenger didn't obey, but rather cast him a suspicious look. "Why are you so worked up over this? It doesn't have anything to do with you."

"Maybe I don't appreciate being the one to whom my nephew confesses his undying love for a dimwitted messenger!" Hades snarled. "Especially when the very same messenger is incapable of leaving me alone!"

Hermes ignored the majority of the rant. Hades could practically hear his brain humming. "Why would he tell you that he loves me? Why not tell me directly? Something's not right here," he declared.

Hades jumped to his feet, tangling his hands in his hair with a frustrated huff. "My life was so much simpler before you were in it. Just—please stop talking. Your voice annoys me."

Surprisingly, Hermes obeyed. His lips clamped shut, and he gazed up at Hades with an inquisitive look in his eyes. Eyes that were the color of fresh basil. Basil was Hades' favorite herb. And the freckles on the herald's nose were more noticeable than usual today…

The king heaved a sigh and looked away. "I don't know what to tell you."

"You don't have to tell me anything," Hermes said quietly. "I don't feel anything for Apollo, and I'm at least ninety percent sure that the feeling is mutual." There was a moment's pause before he hesitantly asked, "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" Hades muttered, perching on the edge of his desk.

Hermes shrugged a shoulder before rising out of his chair and sitting next to the older god. Their shoulders touched lightly. "I don't know. You really overreacted for someone who claims to not care."

It was true. Hades knew it was true. The king could no longer deny the tightness he felt in his chest at the thought of Hermes with Apollo, or the fluttering sensation that appeared in his stomach whenever the messenger was near. The realization made him sick.

Concern and bewilderment were written across Hermes' face; he was watching the lord of the dead, and the pale-faced god looked like he was either going to vomit, cry, or perhaps both. "Hades?" Hermes said cautiously.

Slowly, the king turned to face his companion. Slower still, he leaned forward, so close that he could hear the herald inhale nervously, and then feel the warmth wash over his face as he exhaled. "I pride myself on being intelligent," Hades began, his voice low and troubled, "but there are so many things about you that I fail to understand. I never cared for you before, but now I can't stop thinking about you. Your voice has always irritated me, yet I find myself wondering how it would sound whispering my name. There was a time when I might have regretted saving you, but now…I think I would save you a thousand times over." He paused to take a deep breath before murmuring, "Tell me, Messenger—why is this happening to me?"

Hermes opened his mouth, but instead of words, only a weak, strangled noise came out.

Hades' lips brushed against Hermes' cheek before trailing to his ear. "I can't deny this anymore," he whispered.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the idea for part of Dionysus's dream goes to the movie _Real Genius_...

When Hades' eyes opened, his first thought was that his dreams had become disturbingly realistic over the past several months. Of course, the majority of those could be blamed on the messenger, but Hermes couldn't possibly have been responsible for this most recent one…or could he?

Hades rolled onto his side, narrowing his eyes as he thought about the possibility. Had Hermes' interest in Hades grown to the point of obsession? There was always a chance.

Hades exhaled, wishing he could fall back asleep. The room was still dark, and his mind was overwhelmed with exhaustion. He pulled his blanket over his shoulder and closed his eyes. Then…

"You smell good," a voice breathed into his ear.

Hades knew that voice. "Please let this be a cruel joke," he muttered without opening his eyes. "You're not here. I'm dreaming again."

"I'm afraid reality doesn't get much more real than this," the voice said in a comically solemn tone.

Giving up on sleep, Hades sat up with a sigh. As he did, the torches on his wall burst into life, illuminating Dionysus's face. The flames danced with cheerfulness that Hades wished he himself could feel. Alas, the lord of the dead would never be known for his sunny disposition. He settled on casting Dionysus a dark look. "What are you doing in my bedroom? And in the middle of the night, to boot."

"I couldn't sleep," Dionysus said matter-of-factly. For once, he looked surprisingly sober.

"So you decided to watch _me_ sleep?!" Hades demanded. "I didn't peg you as a voyeur. Your followers should add that little tidbit to one of your hymns."

"But you weren't asleep," he said innocently. "Doesn't that make it a little less creepy?"

Hades opted not to answer. Instead, he crossed his legs and arranged a blanket over his lap. "I had a very strange dream," he muttered, staring at the weave of the blanket intensely.

"Oh?" Dionysus said delicately. "Were you dancing naked on top of Zeus's throne with all of the Muses screaming and throwing grapes at you?"

"That sounds like _your_ dream. Not mine."

"It is my dream," Dionysus said languidly. "For some reason I have it whenever I eat feta cheese."

"Hermes was in the dream," Hades said after a long, incredulous pause. "But I'm not entirely sure whether it was _my_ dream or one of the messenger's little subconscious adventures."

"You've always been sure in the past," Dionysus pointed out, and Hades couldn't deny that he had a point.

"I hate it when you're right," Hades said disgustedly.

"Besides, I dream about him all the time," Dionysus went on as though Hades hadn't spoken at all. "One time we were riding on the back of a giant crow and it was telling us limericks…"

There would be no shutting him up now. With a resigned sigh, Hades lay back down as Dionysus continued to prattle on. His voice became a low hum in the background. Unwittingly, the king's eyes began to drift shut as visions of impish eyes and a sparkling white grin swam to the front of his mind.

 

Being summoned to Olympus for early-morning meetings was not high on Hades' list of favorite things, but he always showed up anyway and made sure to do so in an awe-inspiring manner. This particular morning found him sweeping through the golden gates with his dark robes snapping around his ankles, every hair brushed into his place and silver crown atop his head.

The palace was still quiet. Breathing in the crisp morning air, Hades paused in the middle of a marble walkway and took a moment to gaze around with his keen eyes. Olympus really was an impressive structure; the king was usually too busy despising his relatives to admire their dwelling place, but here in the wee hours of the morning with no one to catch him, he did just that.

The sun, magnificent in its power and beauty, was peering over the horizon, just beginning to illuminate the vast land of Greece far below. The white marble that the palace had been built of sparkled in the light, shining just as brightly as it had when it was new even though it was now centuries old. Turning around, Hades gazed at the mountains in the distance. If he squinted, he could see the snow on their peaks. Then his gaze fell to a lower portion of the palace, only attainable by a long flight of stairs. What he saw made him freeze.

Sitting on a bench near the edge of a lower walkway were two people, one with an unmistakable mop of curly black hair and the other with a golden lyre resting on his lap. To his horror, Hades felt an irrational surge of rage flood through him. What were they doing together?! The king could hear Apollo's words echoing in his head…

_"I'm in love with Hermes…there are things about him I simply can't hate…his eyes…his humor…his laugh…"_

And suddenly, he had to know what Apollo was saying to the messenger. He found himself storming down the stairs before he could think twice.

Before he knew it, he was standing behind the bench glaring daggers at the back of Apollo's head. As though he could feel the glare, the healer turned around. There was a vague look of surprise and—Hades inwardly (and outwardly) seethed— _amusement_ in his eyes. "Lord Hades…what a surprise," he drawled in his perfect voice.

_"Surprise?"_ Hades sneered as Hermes turned around. "Surely you knew I was supposed to be here this morning. I thought you knew everything."

Apollo smiled, though the expression was all teeth and no warmth, and Hades forced himself to focus solely on the archer's face as unjustified anger continued to surge through him. He couldn't look at Hermes. Not now.

"I knew you were supposed to be at Olympus this morning, attending a meeting with my father and Poseidon in the throne room," Apollo agreed, "not standing behind Hermes and me looking as though you wish to tear my head off."

Raw power crackled through the air as Hades snarled at his nephew's impudence. The morning seemed to darken and a nearby vase of flowers shattered into pieces with a loud _crack!_ It angered Hades further to see that Apollo didn't look at all fazed. He remained a picture of cold, unflappable beauty and perfection, and Hades couldn't help but wonder if Hermes saw the blond god that way. With that thought, his anger deflated. It was replaced by cold, hollow emptiness.

He turned away from the two young gods, wrapped his chlamys more tightly around himself, and began to climb the stairs. By now he was probably late for his meeting, and for what reason? His adolescent feelings, whatever they may be.

He wondered if he was going insane and then snorted to himself.

"Hades, wait!" a voice shouted, but Hades ignored it, quickening his pace.

_"Stop!"_ the voice insisted, a suddenly a hand grabbed the back of his chiton. Hades whirled around and came face-to-face with the messenger.

_"What?!"_ he demanded through bared teeth.

"Um—you forgot to say hi to me earlier," Hermes joked feebly.

Raising one of his dark eyebrows, he looked directly into the messenger's eyes. "Hi," he drawled sarcastically.

Looking into his eyes was a huge mistake, Hades quickly realized. As Hermes stared back at him, the king was flooded with memories from his dream. He could feel their shoulders touching, feel the warmth of Hermes' breath, feel his lips against olive colored skin…

_I can't deny this anymore._

Was it his imagination, or had the messenger moved closer? He was aware of his breath quickening along with his heart rate, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he was wondering how it had come to this.

There were hands touching his chest, pressing a palm directly over his racing heart. Hermes was definitely closer, closer than he had ever been in the realm of consciousness, and at this range he wasn't the annoying, bubbly, happy-go-lucky brat that Hades had hated. He was beautiful, with sculpted cheekbones, perfect lips, and eyes that spoke of wondrous things without saying a single word.

Seemingly of their own accord, Hades' fingers had drifted up to Hermes' face; his thumbs brushed over those lovely cheekbones, touched his lips, stroked his jaw, and the king was entranced as he watched the messenger's eyes flutter shut.

It was almost pure instinct when his arms wound around the slender waist and his lips crashed against the younger god's so hard that it nearly hurt.

"Finally!" Hermes breathed against his lips, but Hades didn't get a chance to ask what that was supposed to mean because the messenger seemed to be growing taller. They were eye to eye now, and so close that Hades could feel it every time Hermes exhaled, could count all of his freckles if he so wished. The king managed to glance down just long enough to see that the herald was floating above the ground before hands grasped the back of his head and wrenched him forward. Hungry lips claimed his and hands tangled in his hair with a passion that Hades was distantly beginning to suspect had been pent up for a long while. But then those lips parted ever so slightly, and Hades nearly gasped when he felt Hermes lick his bottom lip.

It wasn't long after that when he lost all rational thought.


	11. Chapter 11

It wasn't long after that when he lost all rational thought. His brain ceased to function, all of his actions ruled by his most primal instincts. He was dimly aware that his head had fallen back and at some point, he had shut his eyes…the messenger's lips were on his neck, leaving open mouth kisses, nibbling, sucking…

"What is going on?" a deadly voice asked.

Hades knew that voice, and it was the last thing he wanted to hear. From the sharp gasp that Hermes drew in, the king deduced that he had also identified the speaker. With reluctance, he forced himself to look over the messenger's shoulder and meet the stormy eyes of his younger brother.

"Zeus," he greeted shortly. "What an unwelcome surprise."

"You were late for our meeting, so I went looking for you," Zeus said, his voice dangerously soft. "Little did I expect to find you assaulting my son."

"Assaulting?" Hades said with a snort. His hands were still on Hermes' waist, and he could feel the rigidity of the messenger's muscles. "I assure you I did no such thing. As I recall, there was absolutely no resistance involved."

"Really?" Zeus scoffed, and now that he had gotten over his initial shock, Hades could see the temper that his brother was so well known for beginning to reveal itself. "I fail to think of any other reason why one of my sons would choose to attach himself to a dried-up old god who prefers the company of the dead to his own family!"

Hades was fully prepared to shoot back an equally scathing remark, but to his surprise, Hermes beat him to it. Spinning around in midair, the furious messenger faced down his father. "It's not any of your business who I attach myself to or why!" he snapped. "You might be in charge of a lot of things, but my love life is _not_ one of them."

Zeus's mouth fell open in shock, and Hades was quite sure that he had never thought his quick-witted, cheerful, happy-go-lucky son would turn on him in such a manner. "Hermes…"

"If you were really as wise as everyone seems to think you are, you would already know that _I'm_ the one who has been chasing _him_. Not the other way around." Hermes' words were sharp and left no room for questions. "In fact, he's done his best to push me away at every turn. I wouldn't let him. So if you want to blame somebody for what you just saw, blame me, but leave him alone."

Hades let go of the messenger's waist and crossed his arms. "I hope you know that I most certainly don't need you to defend my honor," he drawled with a raised eyebrow. "I'm more than capable of doing so on my own."

He wasn't going to let the ridiculous messenger see that he might actually be touched. Just a little bit. _Absolutely not._

Hermes, once again displaying his ability to go from self-righteous fury to playful cheekiness, shot Hades a wink over his shoulder. "I know you can. Doesn't mean I can't do it for you every now and then."

Hades gave a long-suffering sigh while inwardly enjoying the sight of his brother's gobsmacked expression.

" _Hades?!_ Really, Son?" Zeus said incredulously.

"It's not as though I'm professing my undying love for Medusa," Hermes said, and he was beginning to sound exasperated. "Father, I'm centuries old. I think I can make my own decisions when it comes to my personal life."

"And being that I'm even older than you are, I assure you that I most definitely can," Hades said to Zeus with a smirk.

Zeus looked like he wanted to continue arguing, but one look at his son's firm expression and Hades' amused eyes was enough to make him sigh reluctantly. Hades heard the messenger exhale slowly.

"I trust that this relationship will not interfere with either of your duties," the king said sharply.

"Of course not," Hermes agreed quickly just as Hades scoffed "Relationship?"

Zeus's cold blue eyes landed on his older brother, and Hades was uncomfortably reminded of the older king's fierce power and unpredictable personality. "If you _ever_ hurt my son…"

"Of course I won't hurt the brat," Hades snapped. "If I was so inclined, it would have been when he broke several bottles of my most precious wine."

"…or _allow_ him to come to harm…"

"Oh yes," Hades said sarcastically. "I lent him my Helm in the middle of a war because I'm so anxious for him to be hurt. That makes a great deal of sense, brother."

"That was completely unnecessary, by the way," Hermes muttered. "I would have been fine."

"That's extremely doubtful," Hades replied without looking at him. "Your sword skills are abysmal."

Ignoring the messenger's indignant squawk, Hades looked his brother directly in the eye. "I will never purposefully hurt him," he promised quietly. "You have my word."

Zeus gave a curt nod and shot his son one last disbelieving look before disappearing in a bright flash of light.

Hades and Hermes were left to stare at each other in uncomfortable silence. Not for the first or probably the last time, Hades found himself wondering how all of this had happened. Staring at the herald's young and handsome face made him remember his own less-than-perfect appearance. Zeus was right. He _was_ a dried-up old god.

"You're less than a hundred years older than I am," the messenger's blunt voice cut through his dark thoughts, "and I think we both know a hundred years is _nothing_ when you consider how old we actually are."

"That doesn't seem possible," Hades muttered. "You look so young. And how in the name of Zeus did you know what I was thinking?"

"Call it intuition," Hermes said with a smirk, and Hades thought he could get used to that particular expression; the flash of white teeth, the saucy glint in those intelligent green eyes, the way his eyebrows quirked just so. "The point is, I'm not some innocent child."

"I never thought you were 'innocent'," Hades sighed, and he was surprised when he felt a pang at the thought of Hermes with his many…many…lovers.

"Then what is it?" Hermes pressed, staring up at the taller god.

"You're so…" Hades hadn't had this much trouble getting words out in…well, ever.

Hermes tapped one foot against the marble floor, and Hades scowled at the impatient gesture before finally finishing through gritted teeth. "Attractive. You're very attractive."

Hermes raised an eyebrow in what was probably considered one of his trademark expressions. "You think so?"

"Don't you?" Hades shot back.

"I'm not that narcissistic," Hermes laughed, shrugging his cloak behind his shoulders. Hades rolled his eyes as the other god's perfectly formed upper body was revealed. "I'm usually overshadowed by my brothers."

Hades thought of Apollo and Ares, both tall, impossibly handsome, almost _beautiful_ creations. Both lithe, skilled fighters; both talented at so many things. He could understand how Hermes might feel overshadowed. But then he gazed at the messenger, at his sleek hair, beautiful olive skin, strong jaw and slightly pointed chin. He thought of all the things this young god had accomplished in his life, of his cunning and undeniably brilliant mind. Where Ares and Apollo were cold and unflappable, their wily brother was charming and friendly. Perhaps _too_ friendly, Hades thought with an inward snort.

"Ares is nothing but a brute and Apollo is _too_ perfect," Hades said smoothly. ""But I've digressed. My point was that I don't understand how you can be attracted to me. I hardly compare to you or your brothers."

Hermes' eyebrows rose even higher, almost disappearing beneath his fringe of curly black hair. Then he let out a disbelieving laugh that instantly made Hades grind his teeth together. "You don't think you're attractive?"

"No," Hades snapped. "As a matter of fact, _I don't."_

Hermes' expression slowly morphed into a soft smile, and before the king knew what was happening, there were fingers combing their way through his long hair. Hades took a deep breath and fought the instinctive urge to duck away; he would have to get used to this.

He hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes until Hermes' other hand touched his cheek. Rough fingertips trailed across his cheekbone, and warm breath washed over his lips. "Look at me," the messenger's voice, unnaturally gentle, said.

For once, Hades obeyed. He was met with the sight of Hermes only mere inches away from him, nearly pressing into his chest. His full lips formed into another smile, and he slowly ran a finger over the shadows beneath the king's dark eyes. "Are you scared, My Lord?" he murmured, and Hades was stuck with a memory of the first time Hermes had dared to get so close to him. That time, he _had_ been scared. This time, he was completely honest when he whispered, "No."

The hand in his hair tightened, drawing him away from the long-ago memory. Now the herald's fingers were resting against his lips, a feather light touch that was barely there. Hades met his eyes, finding himself pulled into a never-ending ocean of swirling green and gold. "I think you're attractive," he heard, and the words sounded like they were coming from somewhere far away but he believed them.

Suddenly feeling off balance, he gripped the messenger's bare shoulders. The skin beneath his hands was warm and firm.

Was this why Hermes was among the most loved and trusted of the gods…his ability to make people feel as though they mattered? Or was it simply the fact that his mere presence was reassuring?

Suddenly Hermes stepped away from him in one graceful motion.

Hades blinked at him. "What?"

"I almost forgot!" the messenger exclaimed with a teasing smile.

"Forgot _what?_ " Hades said with a scowl. He wasn't going to admit that he was missing the warmth of Hermes' firm body.

"That I had a message for you!"

"Can't it wait?" the king said impatiently.

"Nope," Hermes said, shaking his head. "It's very important."

"So important that you _forgot_ ," Hades muttered with a roll of his eyes. It was amazing how fast they had slipped back into their old routine of the annoying messenger and the grumpy king. "Well, go on then. Who is it from?"

"It's from Hermes," he said with a wide smile, "herald of Zeus, patron of travel and writing, best friend of thieves, master of deceit and persuasion, inventor of astronomy and so many other things."

"You're starting to sound like Apollo," Hades said, though there was a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Hermes ignored him. "He wishes to tell you, Hades, great King of the Underworld, lord of riches, fierce warrior, master of invisibility and shadows, that you are the most majestic person he has ever met. Your power is entrancing in such a manner that you captured his attention in a way that it has never been captured before. He is known to be flighty, but you are the only one who has ever made him want to stay home, simply because he wants to be close to you. He has made it one of his life's missions to make you smile as much as possible, because no matter what you think, you are mesmerizing. And I'll kill anyone who says otherwise," he finished rather viciously.

"That won't be necessary," Hades said, and now he wasn't bothering to hide his smile. The expression felt unnatural on his face. "I'm not exactly the most beloved of the gods. You would end up killing off half the population."

Hermes bared his teeth in a frightening smile. "So be it."

Hades shifted uncomfortably. He wondered if he would ever get used to someone defending him with such passion. Especially since he hardly needed defending.

"Do the two of you plan on standing there the rest of the day?" Apollo's irritated voice interrupted. "Can't you find somewhere else to bond?" He was standing behind Hermes wearing a disgruntled expression. His arms were crossed over his broad chest.

Hades wondered if he had been listening this entire time. "I'm sorry; are we bothering you?" the king drawled.

Apollo didn't respond, but Hades watched as his blue eyes flicked in Hermes' direction. His expression was unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked away.

"That was weird," Hermes commented.

Hades didn't answer. He was still watching the archer's retreating back, his dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully. After a few seconds, he turned back to Hermes. "Care to join me for a walk?"


	12. Chapter 12

"Apollo is in love with you," Hades bluntly stated once they were sufficiently far away from Olympus.

"So I've heard," Hermes replied with an exaggerated eye roll, "and I still don't believe it. He hates me. He always _has_ hated me. He always _will_ hate me. Are you getting the point yet?"

The two were seated on a large, flat rock somewhere north of Thebes. Hermes had produced a pouch full of pebbles out of thin air and was busy arranging them in an eccentric pattern. Knowing him, it was probably a map of the universe or something as equally ridiculous.

Hades was gazing at the stormy sky with a thoughtful expression. "Are you sure about that?" he asked.

Hermes gave an impatient sigh and slammed down a pebble with such force that small fractures appeared on the rock's surface. "Yes, I'm sure, and even if I wasn't, why would it matter?"

"Apollo isn't above petty revenge," Hades said darkly. "May I remind you of a poor soul named Orion?"

"I'm not worried about Apollo," Hermes snorted. "I can handle him. Besides, _he is not in love with me._ He has thousands of beautiful men and women who swoon over him on a daily basis. Why would he focus on the bane of his existence?"

"For the same reason that I would focus on you," Hades replied quietly.

"I've done nothing but annoy him since the day I was born," Hermes said, and his voice was developing a sharp edge. "And I'm tired of hearing about him, so change the subject."

Hades shot him a narrow-eyed look. "Messenger, just because we kissed one time does not give you the right to tell me what to do—"

He was abruptly cut off when Hermes, who had gone from sitting several feet away to kneeling in front of the king faster than any eye could register, grabbed his face and slammed their lips together in a brutal kiss.

"Finally," the messenger breathed several minutes later. "I found a way to shut you up."

Hades responded by kissing him again.

 

When Hermes reappeared at the palace several hours later, it was to find Apollo waiting for him in his room.

Hermes shot him a dirty look as he slammed the door behind him. "You've got a talent for popping up in places and conversations where you're not wanted."

Apollo, who was sitting on the couch with a papyrus scroll in his hands, didn't answer.

Hermes shook his head while he unfastened his cloak and tossed it on the floor. Deciding to ignore the irritating blond, he turned to his wash basin and splashed water on his face. As he reached for a towel, he heard the archer sigh and set the scroll aside. "You seem mad," Apollo commented.

Hermes didn't turn around or respond. He patted his face dry and tossed the towel on the floor as well. Glancing into the mirror at his weary face, he brushed his fingers through his hair. He could see Apollo watching him in the reflection.

"Maybe I'm mad because I'm tired of hearing about you wherever I go," Hermes muttered. "Or maybe it's because you're going around spreading lies and getting me caught up in them."

"I never lie," Apollo said mildly.

"Give it a rest, Apollo," Hermes snapped, finally whirling around. "We both know you're not in love with me. And I had to spend the entire afternoon listening to Hades worry about it…"

"It looked to me like you did a little more than 'listen' to him."

"Have you been _spying_ on us?!" Hermes asked incredulously.

"I don't have to spy to know certain things," Apollo said, his voice dispassionate.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermes said sarcastically. "I forgot that I was talking to the perfect and all-knowing Apollo. Why don't you go away before I wreck your oh-so-perfect face?"

Fiddling with the end of his long braid in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture, Apollo lifted his eyes towards the ceiling and sighed. "Sometimes I can't stop thinking about you."

"About the many different ways to maim and disfigure me?" Now he was kicking his sandals across the room with unnecessary force.

"No," Apollo said quietly, and the tone of his voice made Hermes pause uncertainly.

"Now you're beginning to worry me."

Apollo's lips twisted into a scowl. He jumped to his feet and began to pace back and forth. Hermes' eyes followed him warily.

"I never lie," Apollo repeated, coming to an abrupt halt and staring down at Hermes.

"So you've said," Hermes replied. He couldn't help but feel uneasy as he stared up at the taller god. Then he told himself that it was ridiculous to feel uneasy; he had known Apollo for the entirety of his very long life, and the blond would never do anything to hurt him.

"I told Hades that I was in love with you."

"I know," said Hermes, and then he let out a huff. This conversation was going in circles. "Just tell me the reason you're here, Apollo."

Apollo seemed to lose his patience. "Aren't you supposed to be a genius?" he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "Because you're acting like an idiot."

"Well, I'm sorry if I'm not as omniscient as you, and I'm also sorry if I can't read your mind!" Hermes snapped back.

_"I think I'm in love with you!"_ Apollo snarled.

"…No, you're not."

"I… _what?!"_

"Think about it, Apollo," Hermes said irritably. "We have nothing in common. We've done nothing but annoy each other for the past several centuries. You never miss a chance to insult me. Now all of a sudden you're in love with me?"

Apollo's lips were parted slightly, and Hermes took a moment to savor the look of shock on the archer's normally unflappable face. The moment didn't last for long, though; a split second later angry red spots were appearing on his cheekbones. "You don't have any right to tell me how I do or do not feel!"

"I do when I know I'm right!" Hermes shot back, and even though he was known for being one of the least temperamental Olympians, his patience was wearing thin. "And besides, what am I _supposed_ to say? You know how I feel about Hades. Am I supposed to forget about him just because you've decided that you're in love with me?"

Apollo opened his mouth to reply, but Hermes didn't give him the chance. "I always knew you were egotistical, but not everyone is obsessed with you," he said in a sharp voice. "I do love you, Apollo—even though half the time I want to throw something at your head—but I'm not _in_ love with you."

The room was filled with a heavy silence after the messenger finished his rant. His stare was levelled at Apollo, but the older god wasn't looking at him. His gaze was focused on the floor.

Hermes felt a spark of guilt. Had he been too harsh? "Apollo—" he began, even though he wasn't sure what he was going to say, but Apollo turned on his heel and walked out of the room without another word.

Hermes sighed.

 

"What happened?" Hades asked with a raised eyebrow. He was seated in his throne, arms crossed over the front of his robes.

The fuming messenger was pacing in front of the dais, his golden sandals clicking against the stone floor. "He said he's in love with me!"

Now both of the king's eyebrows were raised. "Haven't I been telling you that?"

"Yes, but I didn't believe it! I'm still not sure I do," Hermes admitted. "What am I supposed to do?"

Hades gave an elegant shrug.

"Very helpful, My Lord," Hermes said with a slight snort, and Hades' lips twisted into a small smile.

The messenger looked as though he had hastily thrown his clothes on; his cloak was wrinkled, his hair was windblown and the winged band that rested on his head was askew. It was a pleasant change for Hades not to be the one who was bedraggled.

"I know I look horrible but you don't have to stare," Hermes' voice cut through the king's musings. The herald had drawn closer to the throne, and there was an amused glint in his eyes.

"'Horrible' isn't the word I was thinking of," Hades drawled.

"Oh?" Hermes said sweetly. "What word _were_ you thinking of?"

Before Hades could reply, Thanatos stepped into the room. He cast a dark look at Hermes before bowing to Hades. "My Lord," he said respectfully. "The others and I are ready for this week's report."

"Very well," Hades said with only a hint of reluctance. "Bring them in."

"Why the sour expression, Thanatos?" Hermes sneered before the daemon could leave. "Are you upset because I destroyed your delusions of grandeur?"

"How dare you," Thanatos hissed before shooting a frightened look at his king, who didn't look amused.

"That's enough," Hades snapped. "Thanatos, I thought I told you to go get the others."

Thanatos turned to leave, but not before aiming a dirty look at the smirking messenger.

After the daemon had disappeared through the door, Hermes prepared to take flight. It had been a long day and he was exhausted. But before he could, Hades held up a hand. "Don't leave just yet."

"Afraid you'll miss me?" Hermes teased, and Hades took a brief moment to marvel that not too long ago, that comment would have infuriated him.

"Actually, there's something I need you to do…"


End file.
